


A King, of course, is always in need of a Queen

by Captain_Aurinko



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Also I lied about this not having any season 3 stuff. The further i get into this fic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, I'm going off of the Updated Murderous Mask, I'm posting before season 3 starts so if you're reading this afterwards dont @ me, M/M, Magic Replaces Technology, Murder Mystery, Slow Burn, the more s3 references ya'll are gonna see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2020-10-04 05:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Aurinko/pseuds/Captain_Aurinko
Summary: The kingdom of Hyperion is healing from a long, difficult past. Juno Steel (Private Eye) might be the only one who can keep it from all falling apart, if he isn't killed by the man he was hired by first. After all, you can never trust royalty, and especially not royalty who lie about who they really are.





	1. Hyperion Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is my first fic so feel free to leave comments and criticism (but please be constructive!)
> 
> This whole thing sprang from an idea from discord so I hope it turns out good.

All things considered, the Kingdom of Hyperion wasn't a bad place to live. The food wasn’t great, and long line of crappy kings had left the place with enough problems to sink a navy, but most of the tax money came from the nobility and the current king seemed less prone to war and assassination than his predecessors. For the first time in centuries, things were looking up. That is, unless you lived in Oldtown. There was no fixing Oldtown. No matter how many schools the king sent money for, how many police officers he appointed, or how many programs he set up, the city was a cesspool of crime and violence, through and through. 

Juno Steel knew why; Hell, so did most of the city’s residents. It was the Kanagawas: a family of nobility that ran the city and had a philosophy of bread and circuses. That is to say, they took the money meant for bread and spent it to host circuses, plays, and elaborate coliseum fights for the masses. That strategy had served the Kanagawa family well for generations, but the word on the street was that it wouldn’t serve them for much longer. According to a letter he’d received yesterday from his old… friend, Sasha Wire, the king was cracking down on corruption, sending some sort of official to sort things out. For some reason, she’d picked Juno of all people to show him around. 

Juno Steel was a lot of things depending on the day: ex-guardsman, current detective, decent cook, terrible gambler. But here’s one thing he wasn’t: a god-damned chauffeur to a royal lapdog, fittingly named Rex.

And so he grabbed his crossbow, tucked the letter Sasha sent into his coat, and began clamoring out the window. Maybe Rita would let him sulk at her house if she was feeling charitable. If not, he could always head out in the forest, say hello to some rabbits, grab a drink, and do some target practice. He could have, if he’d been a little bit faster.  
He turned around as the door opened to see a tall man in a regal uniform stepped into his office. “Ah, Detective Steel, how lovely to meet… you… at last… Detective, are you trying to crawl out that window?”

“I’d say I was succeeding.” Juno said before he could stop himself. He expected the man to get angry or roll his eyes or doggedly refuse to work with him, all fair reactions, but instead the man just laughed and… flirted? 

Juno’s been at this job too long to be taken in by a sharp smile and a laugh, but, alright, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to do a favor for Sasha, just this once. He owed it to her after all, after… everything he’d done. This had absolutely nothing to do with the amused gleam in the man’s eyes as he watched Juno climb back into his office, the one that gave Juno the feeling that he was happy to see him and would be just as happy to kill him if it came down to it. 

Since there wasn’t really a way to socially recover after someone saw him trying to get away from them through a window, Juno decided to skip the niceties. “Uh, Agent Glass, right?”

“Only to my mother, Detective! Please call me Rex.” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.” Sharp teeth or no, Juno didn’t want to deal with this mess any longer than he had to. He turned down the man’s offer for dinner and opted to go directly to the Kanagawa’s castle. As they walked, Juno told him about life in Hyperion and the Kanagawas.

The Kanagawa’s castle was a lot like the Kanagawas themselves. It was a lot of gold and jewels with a lot of big, mean, and ugly underneath. Juno had been here before, plenty of times. In fact, he was practically family if you believed the twin heirs to Oldtown, Cecil and Cassandra. It was a nice sentiment, but it didn’t get you very far in the casa Kanagawa, where family meant that it’s members weren’t likely to make it past sixteen, and the few that did were mean, crafty, and would sell the legs straight off your body if they thought they could get a couple creds for it.

From the moment they stepped inside, Juno could tell something was off. People were whispering to each other in droves and glancing around nervously. They barely made it ten feet inside before half a dozen guards had surrounded them, swords drawn.

“I take it that this isn’t the usual welcome wagon,” Rex said benignly.

“Well normally it takes at least ten minutes before someone tries to stab me, so maybe they’re just being proactive.”

A rough voice rose over the hubbub. “Juno!” A woman with purple hair and an expensive black dress stormed towards them. “What the hell are you doing here? Come to rub it in everyone’s faces?” 

“It’s good to see you too, Cass. How’s the family?” She punched him with enough force to stun a rabbit and he went toppling backwards into Glass.

“Juno-” Glass started, as he helped the lady get his balance. Juno waved him off. Something was wrong. Cass was always angry, (they were similar in that respect) but right now she was shaking. Which was weird, because up until this moment he’d thought she was unshakable. 

He ran his tongue experimentally over his teeth. Nothing loose, nothing broken. “Is that how you greet all your friends now, or am I special?” 

She doesn’t seem to hear him, too caught up in her thoughts. “Of all the days, Juno. Why now? God-damn it. Of course. Of course!”

He puts up his hands placatingly. “Hang, on Cass. Slow down. You’re talking like Rita on her way out of the theater. Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“You mean you haven’t heard? Then why the hell are you here?” 

“A friend asked me to give Agent Tyrannosaurus a tour of the place. I’m guessing that’s not the plan anymore.”

“Juno.” She took a shaky breath. “It’s dad. He’s dead. Croesus was killed.”


	2. Cassandra Kanagawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex and Juno meet Croesus, and have a little chat with Cassandra.

Cassandra waved away the guards so they could talk. She didn’t look angry anymore, just tired.

“How did it happen?” Juno asked quietly. There was no lost love between him and Croesus, (he still had the scars from Croesus’s goons to prove it) but it didn’t take a detective to see that Cass was running on fumes.

She stared at the ground. “They found him in his treasure room this morning. One of his relics- he triggered it and- Maybe you should see yourself. C’mon, I’ll show you the way.”

Juno turned to Rex. “You should probably wait here, Glass. Sorry to cut the show short but I’m pretty sure the subject of your investigation isn’t going to be taking visitors. Like, ever.”

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Rex said. Juno raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t give me that look. He may have passed on, but his castle is still here, as well as any evidence of his corruption within. And I’m sure we both know that any malpractice taking place within these walls isn’t going to end with him. Bloodlines are funny that way.” 

Juno tried not to think about Sarah Steel and the scarred knuckles they shared. “I- fine. You can tag along. But don’t get in the way.”

“Message received, I’ll follow your lead detective.” Said Rex with a well-practiced salute. Juno rolled his eyes and followed Cass through the labyrinth of hallways, corridors, and dead ends leading to the treasury.

“Well, have at it.” Cass gestured towards the open door.

“In-cred-ible!” Rex breathed as they entered. Even Juno had to admit that the treasure room was something. Magical relics hung from every wall, jewels were lined around the room is glass cases, and the floor was coated in a thin layer of gold coins from where a chest had been knocked over… by Croesus’s body. 

At least, Juno thought it was Croesus. There was some kind of… mask wrapped around his head, but it wasn’t like any mask Juno had ever seen. For one, it had three heads. Or at least it would have, if Croesus’s face hadn’t been inside. And it gave off the kind of energy that gave your heebies jeebies. 

Rex knelt down and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe some of the blood off of the chest. “Well,” He said after a moment. “I suppose we know where the king’s gold has been going.” Sure enough, despite the blood covering the chest, the king’s royal insignia was visible: a sharp-toothed fox leaping over a crossed quill and dagger. 

Juno watched him out of the corner of his eye, partially so he didn't have to look at what was left of Croesus. “You know Glass, for a public official, you’re pretty relaxed about this whole dead body thing.”

Rex stood and tucked his bloody handkerchief back into his back pocket. “Oh, I did my time in this man’s army, same as every other nobleman’s son.”

“You’re nobility.”

“You sound like that surprises you." He held up a hand to his chin as if to model his features. "Couldn’t you tell from my regal countenance?”

“Nope. But your attitude should have tipped me off.” 

Cass walked over from the doorway, where she’d been making eyes at a potted begonia. “Can you morons do whatever you need to do and get out? There’s a lot of work that needs to be done before the funeral, and the last thing we need is more people poking their noses around here.”

“Why is that Cass, got something to hide?”

She rolled her eyes. “Hardly. But there’s enough people around as it is. No one wants anyone sneaking out in the confusion. There’s still a body to answer for, after all.”

Juno furrowed his brow. “You think there was foul play involved.”

“Wow, and I thought you were supposed to be a detective. A guy like dad makes a lot of enemies, Juno. You really think, in this house, that dad just happened to end up dead in his locked treasure room wearing some hokey artifact as a hat?”

“Locked? What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Dad’s always been paranoid. He keeps this place locked, even when he’s inside. It was even locked when we found him.”

“Wait, how does he manage that? Does he have someone lock him in? That doesn’t make sense, it’s too big a risk that he’ll get trapped inside…”

“I believe I can answer that, detective,” called Rex, examining the door. “See here. The door locks from the inside as well. Only those with a key could enter or exit.”

“And nobody took Croesus’s key; that’s still hanging around his neck.” Juno was on a roll now. “So he couldn’t have brought just anyone inside. Someone with a key must have killed him, and locked the door from the outside. Hey Cass, who has a copy of the key?”

“Just Cecil. And… and me.”

“That’s a pretty important detail to leave out Cass.”

She raised her fist. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna knock your eyes right out of your skull, Steel.”

“What, this is how I look at all of my friends who have a fifty-fifty shot at being murderers.”

“You little-” Before Cass could do any number of unpleasant things to him, Rex stepped in between them. Juno knew he’d done it on purpose. To protect Juno. In this line of work, people didn’t often stick their necks out for a lady like him, and Juno didn’t blame them. He was more scars than skin at this point, what were a few more to the collection? Still… it felt… nice, having someone watching his back again. 

He made it the rest of the way through his interrogation with Cassandra alright. He learned where Cecil was, talked to four separate guards who all had the exact same story of where Cassandra was during the night of the murder, and did his best to dodge every personal question and flirtatious remark Rex threw at him as they navigated the maze of hallways that led to Cecil’s workshop. 

They stopped in front of a steep stone staircase that descended into darkness. Juno jumped as an ominous roar rattled its way out of the basement, and then jumped again when he felt Rex place a leading hand on his lower back. “Ladies first.” Rex supplied unhelpfully. Juno stepped away from him and glared, but since Rex clearly wasn’t budging, he took the initiative and descended towards Cecil’s workshop and all of the horrors within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, a big thanks to the Penumbra creators for making the scripts available! Personally, it has made my life SO MUCH EASIER. 
> 
> Also maybe you haven't noticed but if a scene is gonna play out the exact same as in the show, I'm probably just gonna gloss over it. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that anyone reading this HAS listened to the first episode.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


	3. Showtime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY DID I MAKE A FANTASY AU IN A WORLD WHERE TELEVISION IS A HUGE PART OF THE FIRST EPISODE. So yeah, I had to improvise, sue me. 
> 
> I was gonna make this two separate chapters, but then I realized that the hallways scene is not interesting enough on it's own and I added the next part too. 
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated my dudes. Give me a heads up if something is wrong or confusing!

They continued on the same as before. Rex did his best to pry Juno out of his shell, and Juno shut him down as quickly as he could, while they both tried to ignore the growing roars in the distance. He’d give Rex one thing: he was persistent. Most people only tried to get to know him once. Twice if they were stupid. He could name on one hand the people that stuck around long enough to learn something other than his name, career, and biting sarcasm. But Rex looked at him like he was a puzzle he couldn’t crack. Like Juno was a lock, and there was nothing Rex wanted more than to take him apart and learn his secrets. It was unsettling, especially since Juno didn't know what he was hoping to find.

The roars from down the hall were growing louder, and Juno readied himself for a fight. He didn’t like their chances against whatever monster Cecil had cooked up, but it wasn’t like they had much of a choice. As he loaded his crossbow, Rex knocked on the walls. “Glass?” Juno said over his shoulder, keeping his eyes trained towards the noise. “This really seem like a good time to give the wall a massage?”

“Just a moment…” Rex murmured. “Aha! Quickly, In here-” as a section of the wall swung open, he grabbed the back of Juno’s coat and shoved him bodily into a small compartment. Rex followed him and snapped the door shut behind them. A moment later, the screaming thing passed by. “Well,” Said Rex, bright and breathless. “That sounded… very close!”

Juno tried not to think about how tightly they were pressed up against each other. “Hey, Glass? Mind telling me where the hell this secret door came from? Does the king hand out magical door creating gadgets to all his agents, or are you just special?”

“No, no. Those aren’t available until the clearance level above mine. But you know how these old castles are, filled with hidden pathways and secret trap doors. A good agent never goes into a job unprepared. So, when I heard I was being sent here, knowing there were half a dozen missing chests of gold that needed to be accounted for, I took the liberty of memorizing the floor plan.”

Juno tried shifting to get more space and only managed to trap his head up against Rex’s chest. “You don’t say,” he said weakly. Pressed this close, he could smell Rex’s cologne wrapping around him, intoxicating him.

Rex went on a philosophical tangent about houses and people, and did his best to distract Juno from the raging monster outside. “You have a very interesting name. Juno. Juno. Like the goddess I assume? Mothers, Guardians, Protectors.” Too bad bringing up Sarah Steel wasn’t much of a distraction. He’d take a giant monster any day.

“Not sure that’s what Mom had in mind. Looked the name up once. Turns out Juno was a real piece of work. Had a mean streak a mile wide and a nasty habit of killing her kids.”

“And do you have a mean streak detective?” _You’re just like me, Little Monster._

“Nope." He answered, a little to quickly. "Mom did, though. Never killed me, but that wasn’t for lack of trying.” _I thought he was you._ Juno needed to get the conversation away from her. “How about Rex? That mean anything?”

“Nothing in particular.” Rex said quickly. “I suppose my parents just wanted a name that sounded commanding.” Great, if Rex wasn’t going to be a chatterbox, then he’d have to do something else to get away from Sarah’s memory.

Goddess of Protectors. He could hear her laughing.

“We’ve wasted enough time already. That thing hasn’t made any noises in a while; maybe it found somebody else to eat.” He opened the door.

“I would advise caution-”

“Looks like the coast is clear, let’s go.” Juno started down the hallway again, not bothering to check if Glass was following.

“Well, so much for caution…”

The distraction Juno was looking for came a few minutes later in the form of one of Cecil’s mad science experiments. The two of them were chased through the halls by a stitched-together, reanimated beast made of more species of animals than Juno had ever seen, with grappling hooks for hands and what looked like a mirror for a face. After getting punched a few times by Rex, who was annoyingly hesitant about hitting him, they lost the beast in a dark room and caught their breath in a couple of chairs by the entrance.

“Didn’t Cassandra say… that Cecil had been collecting ancient torture devices?”

Well, shit.

As bars locked them into place, dozens of torches around the room flared to life illuminating the massive bladed cylinder above them. Applause sounded from somewhere Juno couldn’t see as several familiar figures stepped into view. The first was Cecil Kanagawa himself: wearing enough glitter to blind the room and flaunting a magical mirrored arm that moved like it was a part of him. He was followed by half a dozen of the mirror-faced monsters from the hallway, all circling him with something approaching reverence. Cecil flashed the two of them a smile before turning to the beasts.

“Welcome one, welcome all to Cecil Kanagawa’s From the Jaws of Death! I’m your host, **_Cecil Kanagawa_**, bringing you some _explosive_ new developments in the world of entertainment! Drama! Intrigue! Horrific carnage! All from the comfort of your own home! Going out to the theater will be a thing of the past when you can see any show you want from your very own magic mirror! _Now, Cecil_, you might be thinking, _how do I know that what you say is true? Surely you must be exaggerating!_” Dozens of gasps filled the room. “Have no fear, dear viewers. I fully intend to prove my showmanship skills here, for you, tonight! On Cecil Kanagawa’s From the Jaws of Death!”

“Hi, Junebug!” Cecil strolled over as he finished his speech and his henchmonsters dispersed. “Did you miss me?”

“Wow Cecil, I know business has been slow lately, but making your pet monsters play tea party cause no one else will listen? That’s sad, even for you.”

Cecil laughed. “Oh, Junebug, and I thought you were supposed to be a detective. I’m not talking to  _ them. _ They’re just my cameramen! I’m talking to the viewers! Out there!” He gestured everywhere.

“...And you’ve officially passed the no-return point on crazy. Got it.”

“Now now, Juno.” Rex said soothingly. “Let’s not anger the man who has us chained to a death trap.”

Cecil huffed. “It’s simple. I’m  _ expanding _ my  _ markets _ . Look here-” He waved a mirror-beast over to them. With a wave of his hand, it’s face changed to show half a dozen graphs and charts that Juno couldn’t understand. “ _ These  _ are last quarters seating sales for plays and coliseums. We've never had so many empty seats! And these-” It’s face changed again to reveal another set of graphs. “-are sales for Kanagawa brand magic mirrors used for long distance communication and scrying. We're selling more than ever, but not nearly to make up for our losses. Now, if you’re a genius- which I am, of course- then you can innovate to make those numbers work for you. A single performance recorded, and sent to every mirror in Hyperion. Just picture it Juno! Spectacles projected right into your own home!” He smiled dangerously. “We’ll make a  _ killing.” _

The worst part was, Juno believed him. Hell, he would have bet good money that Rita already had two.   


“Wait, hang on.” Juno said, trying to keep up. “I get that this is gonna make your weird mirror sales go up for you, but won’t it tank your sales for real performances? You can't charge people for seating in their homes. If you thought they were bad before, they’re about to hit bedrock.”

“Of course! But the seating isn’t where the money is, Junebug.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “ _ The real money is in advertising. _ I’ve already got contracts set up with half the big businesses in Hyperion. Babbling Brook Realty, Saffron Apothecaries, Valles Vicky’s Vixen Valley…”

“Woah woah woah, hang on. Saffron? You’ve got Julian in on this? And Vicky runs a brothel! That can’t be legal, no matter what non-disclosure agreements you throw at it!”

“Personally, I think it’s a marvelous idea.” Said Rex, surprising all of them.

“Really?” Said Cecil hopefully.

“Really?” Juno said judgmentally at the same moment.

“Of course!” Rex enthused. “I’m sure the king would be fascinated by your invention. If you would just let us go, I would be delighted to vouch for your genius personally!”

Cecil tapped a finger against his chin, and for a split second, Juno thought Rex's bid might work. Then Cecil gave them wicked grin. “A tempting offer, but I don’t need anyone else to help my brilliance shine.”   


“And how did Croesus feel about this little venture, huh?” Juno said, trying to focus back on the reason they were here in the first place. “I’m guessing he didn’t like your program very much. He's always been a little to old-fashioned for your big ideas. I know you were here last night Cecil. You were the only one with a key. You had the motive, the means, and the ten tons of pure, uncut crazy to kill-”

“My, you do go on, don’t you? I have no idea what you mean, Junebug. You’re much more cooperative, Agent. I might have to keep you around after all.”

Rex gave him a dazzling smile. “I do my best, Mr. Kanagawa.” 

“Good luck!” Cecil said, turning to leave. “Be sure to look at the cameras, friends, or we might have to do a second take. Running through a show without a test run is a fool’s game. You never know what might go wrong!”

“Ah, I see! Then you’re filming ahead of time just in case one of us is hurt during this game?” Cecil just stared at him for a long moment, before he started to cackle. Juno couldn’t tell if he admired or was disappointed by Rex’s optimism.

“No, no, no! I’m filming it just in case one of you _isn’t_ hurt! Ta-ta boys!” And with that, he left them to whatever knife-filled fate awaited them. 

“Well,” Juno said to fill the silence. “We’re probably dead.”

“Speak for yourself, Detective. Cecil said he wanted to keep me around.”

“He didn’t mean alive.”

“Well… That changes things a bit.”

Cecil’s voice filled the air, coming from everywhere at once “Tonight, for your viewing pleasure: a Private Investigator and a Royal Agent, two experts of the quick escape, will attempt the most deadly feat to ever seen through mirror!”

As Cecil prattled on, Rex and Juno strategized. Juno had to admit, they worked well together, finishing each others sentences and jumping from idea to idea faster than either of them would on their own. They needed to destroy Cecil’s arm. To do that, they needed to get past his cameramen. To do that, Juno needed his crossbow, lying a ways away. To do that, they needed to cut the chains holding them in this  _ stupid  _ Throne of Spinning Blades. Juno had a plan for that too, but before he could tell Rex, Cecil said something that caught his attention. 

“Now, let’s meet our contestants, shall we? In chair number one: Rex Glass! He’s an Investigative Agent for the king, viewers... but our talented team of researchers could find nothing else on him! Not a thing! Can this man who appeared without a trace vanish without one, too?”

Juno tried to turn and look at Rex, but he couldn’t make out his face. “No record Glass? I thought you said you were nobility. You were in the army.”

Rex sounded baffled. “I don’t have an answer for you Detective. Apparently Cecil’s assistants don’t have access to federal records. My history should be easy to find. I suppose they could have misspelled my name…” Juno took a breath. Glass could be right, after all. Maybe it didn’t mean anything that they didn’t know anything about him. 

But that didn’t make sense-

“-And in chair number two: Juno Steel, Private Eye. Detective Steel has lost just about everything a person can lose: his career, his friends, and even his own brother! Doesn’t it just tear your heart out?” The room filled with saddened gasps. Juno resolved to rip Cecil’s remaining arm off. 

“What? Juno…” Rex sounded concerned. It dug under Juno’s skin like pins and needles. Someone like Cecil shouldn’t  _ get _ to mention someone like Benten. And the last thing he needed was sympathy from Agent… whoever he was. 

“Don’t say anything.” He muttered. _Please, don’t say anything._ Juno was going to do something stupid if he kept listening to Cecil talk about Ben. As if he knew _anything_ about how it felt. So he didn’t listen. Instead, he tugged at the threads of his coat, to loosen the little knife sewn inside. There was no way _Cecil Kanagawa_ was going to be the one to kill him. Not when there was still Croesus’s murder to answer for.

“You have five minutes to escape  _ FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH _ !” Cecil’s voice rang out, and the blades above started to rotate. Juno got to work.


	4. The Spider Springs her Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events wrap up at the Kanagawa castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so since school is a thing to worry about now, the chapters are gonna be weekly probably. 
> 
> This is a shorter chapter, but I didn't want to lump it together with the next chapter because of the DRAMA of it all. 
> 
> Also, I'm not gonna end this with murderous mask. I have PLANS for this AU. I'm just not sure yet if I'll keep going on this fic or leave this as a complete story thing and make it part of a series.
> 
> Also also, as always, I skip the stuff that stays mostly the same.  
Comments and kudos are totally appreciated. I seek external validation like ya'll wouldn't believe. And tell me if something doesn't make sense. Thanks!

Cutting the chain was slow work. “Careful where you put that, Juno.” Rex said nervously from behind him as Juno chipped away at their bonds with his knife.

“Careful as I can be…” Juno muttered, right before he felt the knife catch the side of the agent’s hand. Rex jerked his hand away, and the knife went with it. As he pulled on the chain, the blades dropped several inches and Cecil went on another tangent that Juno tuned out.

_God, he really hated this family._

“Can you reach the knife you dropped?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind wearing the knife rack above you as a crown.”

“As crown’s go, I must say this one doesn’t agree with me.” He leaned back against Juno “Well, I’d rather not do this, but… check my back pockets. They're too far from my hands for me to reach, but… you're back there. Just be careful. Who knows what you'll find.”

Glass wasn't kidding. He kept more per pound in those pockets than most kangaroos. Pens, keys, cards, A toothbrush, his handkerchief still wet with Croesus’s blood. Juno found it between half a sandwich and the other half of the sandwich: an ornate dagger. Not exactly standard issue.

“Would’ve been nice to know about this before.”

“You said you had it under control!” Juno rolled his eyes and went back to work on the chain. In only a few moments, it snapped.

Things moved quickly after that. Glass moved like a storming ocean: flowing movements, dodging low, and sweeping up where the cameramen least expected with a pair of long daggers he’d pulled from god knows where. Juno brawled his way past the remaining few in between him and his crossbow, and as soon as it was in his hands, he had put the remaining cameramen out of commission in seconds.

“Well, that was… really something!” If Juno didn’t know any better, he would say Rex looked almost… flustered. That was a first.

He blew the hair out of his eyes and loaded another dart into his crossbow. “Yeah, I’m amazing, you’ve never seen anything like me, I’ve heard it all before. You’re welcome. Now we just gotta break that arm of his.”

Rex stood up straighter, as if he was coming out of a trance. “I- of course. I saw him run through that far door.”

They chased after him. Of course Cecil still had plans, namely half a dozen spikes to impale Juno’s arm with, but the two of them brought him down quickly. He felt a little better after smashing Cecil’s arm into little glass shards, then a lot worse after realizing that Cassandra’s alibi was a lie and that their stepmother Min was involved somehow.

Juno barely made it out of earshot of Cecil’s ugly-sobbing before his legs decided that it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Luckily, Rex caught him before the floor did.

He waited until Rex had left for a med-kit and then pulled out the second thing he’d grabbed from Rex’s pocket. With his good arm, he held it up to the light.

_No. No, that was crazy. But how-_ He heard Rex coming back and hastily shoved it back in his pocket, trying to look as if nothing was wrong.

Rex applied first aid and tried to bring up Benzaiten. _Why did everyone want to talk about Benten? Why couldn’t they all just let it go?_ Juno didn’t snap like he might have if it had been someone else asking, but he only told Rex enough to get him to leave well enough alone. Sarah Steel was nothing but a monster who hurt everyone she cared about. He didn’t need to see Rex’s horror and pity. He’d had enough of that to last him for lifetimes.

So instead, they discussed the case. And hey, maybe it was the blood loss talking but Juno was feeling alright. Rex was by his side, and as long as they had time on their side, they were going to get to the bottom of this mystery.

And then the screaming started.

Min, looking scared, but not half as scared as she should have been.

Cas, pointing a crossbow and shaking with rage.

A missing schedule for the next lineup of Kanagawa performances.

A bottle of pills. _Little monster._

A confrontation in a room filled with treasure.

A push.

A fall.

A cursed artifact, displayed out in the open.

A final Snap of a mask.

A distraction.

A Cameraman.

An arrest.

A black widow, satisfied after destroying two lives.

And no goddamn evidence left to prove it.


	5. All's Well That Ends Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juno takes Rex back to his apartment to wrap up the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, it's the moment we've all been waiting for! The drama! The finesse! But maybe not exactly in the way you expected. Or maybe I suck at forshadowing and it's exactly what you expected.
> 
> DESPITE THE TITLE THIS ISN'T THE END OF THE FIC. Also, sorry for the several weeks between updates, my computer broke which super duper sucks. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are worth their weight in gold. Let me know if there are any glaring errors or questions remaining. And stay tuned for some very special criminals next update who own my entire heart!

Juno invited Rex back to his apartment. Rex tried to talk to him, and he knew he should reciprocate, return one of his compliments, _something_ besides ruining another relationship.

Relationship. What was he talking about. This was the last time in his life he’d see Rex and there wasn’t a perfect world in the universe where they could be something more. Not with who Rex really was. Still, Juno couldn’t stop himself from trying. “You…” he cleared his throat. “You don’t have to go, Rex.”

Rex laughed, and maybe it was the alcohol, but Juno felt like he could drown in a laugh like that. “See? This is exactly what I mean.”

This was stupid. Juno was being stupid. There wasn’t any way this wouldn’t end badly. At best, he was just going to be made a fool of. At worst he could end up dead. He kept going. “Listen to me. You don’t have to do this. You know that, right?”

“Oh, but of course I do. The world is much bigger than the two of us, Juno. My work, my life... I belong out there. I have to leave.” Rex stepped closer and titled Juno’s head up. “But life can wait one night, Juno. Come here.” And then... Rex kissed him. If his laugh made Juno feel like was drowning, the kiss was a breath of air in what felt like centuries. It felt like it was going to last for centuries, right up until it was over, and Juno knew he’d gotten as much as he deserved.

“Juno…” Rex breathed.

He couldn’t let this go any further. “Your Majesty.” Rex stiffened fractionally. Juno wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn't been pressed up against him.

After a half second, he relaxed and gave Juno an endeared grin. “Well Juno, if you insist, but isn’t it a little early for pet names?”

Juno stepped back. “I mean it Glass, or… Nureyev. Whoever you are.”

“I... I take it from your tone that this is not another layer to the fantasy. Fine, I’ll play along. What exactly makes you think I’m His Royal Majesty, Peter Nureyev? From what I hear, the king doesn’t sit for many portraits.” He was watching Juno closely. Unsettlingly closely. Juno could practically hear the gears turning in his head as they both waited to see what happened next.

“There were a few things that gave it away. You said you knew what a dead body looked like from your military service, but if you were nobility you would have spent that time in an officers tent, nowhere near the front lines.”

“What can I say? I felt compelled as a citizen of the crown to serve in combat. My chivalrous duty, if you will.” He wasn’t giving up easily. Fine.

“Cecil said he couldn’t find anything on you.”

“A clerk must have misfiled my paperwork. Surely, you know how inaccurate bureaucracy can be.”

Juno scowled. “You fight with the same god-damn knives that are on the royal seal.”

“A gift from the king for my many years of handsome service.”

“And this?” Juno pulled Nureyev’s handkerchief out of his pocket. “You did a good job cutting away the embroidery, but you can still see the indent if you hold it up to the light. _Property of H.R.M,_

_ P. Nureyev”_

“Would you believe I stole that?” Nureyev said, a smile playing on his lips.

“_Don’t._” Juno snarled. “I could already have you arrested for impersonating an officer. I doubt you want me to add theft to your records.”

Nureyev laughed again. “I’m sure I’d be taken to the royal palace in chains, to be tried before the king for my crimes. Wouldn’t that cause a scandal!” He sounded absolutely delighted by the thought.

“I_ knew_ it was you. But I thought you’d…” Juno paused, composed himself. Tried to act like he hadn’t just been kissed senseless by god-damned royalty. “So is Sasha in on it too, then? You two working together?”

“Who? Oh, do you mean the agents at the courier service? No no, Juno. They told you the truth. The truth as they knew it, at any rate.”

“_Who are you._” They both knew he wasn't talking about a name. Still, Peter stuck doggedly to his story.

“Rex Glass. Really Juno, surely you haven’t forgotten already. Kissing strangers is in bad taste, you know.”

“**Please.**” Juno was begging now. It was humiliating, but he needed to know. He needed to know who this man really was.

Nureyev hesitated. He looked at Juno the same way he’d looked at him in the Kanagawa’s castle. Like Juno was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

And then somehow, he did. Juno didn’t know what Nureyev saw in his eyes, but whatever he was looking for in Juno, he’d found his answer.

“Imagine-” Nureyev started. “Imagine you were a ruler, responsible for the good of an entire country-”

“Pass. Crown’s not a good look on me.”

“_Juno_.”

“Right, sorry. Shutting up.” He pantomimed locking his lips shut.

“Good. Now, Imagine that entire country relied on you, to keep them safe and happy. At the same time, you were surrounded on all sides by people who were waiting for you to fail. Rulers of other nations, greedy merchants, advisors waiting to seize power the moment you showed weakness. Imagine that the only one you can rely on is yourself.” Juno _could_ imagine, more easily than Nureyev understood. Peter’s expression darkened. “And you’re not perfect. Of course you’re not. You make mistakes and people suffer for them. And when you need to fix these mistakes, you need to fix them without support.

“And so… you take a vacation. You leave for a few days and you fix what you have to do, away from the public eye. You take on names and discard them as the occasion arises. Rex Glass, Duke Rose, Perseus Shawe-”

Juno’s mind was struggling to keep up. “Hang- Hang on. Duke Rose? The high-profile _thief_? You’re a thief?”

“Hush, Juno. It’s rude to interrupt. Now-”

“But why are you telling me this?” It was too much. Juno had wanted answers, but he didn’t expect them, not with this level of honesty. No one was ever _that_ honest, right? There had to be another angle Nureyev was playing here.

Nureyev looked at him like he’d asked the stupidest question in the history of stupid questions. “Oh, Juno.” He said softly. “You only had to ask.”

“I- What happens now?” Juno asked.

“Return with me.” Nureyev took a step towards him, pleadingly. Juno took another step back. “Back to the palace. Oldtown isn’t the safest place for you at the moment. From the sound of things the Kanagawas are very upset with you. It could be so simple. The position of Royal Investigator is open, and from what I’ve seen, there’s no better lady for the job.”

Juno’s head was spinning. He didn’t know what angle Nureyev was playing, why he wanted Juno, but he was sure it wasn’t for anything good. No one ever wanted to use him for anything good. “Nureyev, I don’t know. This is… a lot. Hell, I don’t even know what a royal investigator does.”

“Oh, neither do I. I made it up just now, but I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do-”

“No! No, I just- give me some time to think.” _So long as they had time on our side_. His words from right before Cassandra’s arrest came back to him. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

Peter closed his eyes for a long moment. “Sadly detective, time is one of the few things I don’t have. I have a gala to attend tomorrow, and I have to get there before the morning or the charade will be up. I can’t wait here for you to make up your mind.”

Juno realized what he was saying. “So this is it then.”

“It doesn’t have to be-”

“Are you coming back?”

Peter didn’t answer for a long moment. “No,” He said finally. “I suppose I’m not."

Juno let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Of course he was leaving. What had Juno expected? He knew that nothing was going to happen. And he was probably better off this way. So he kissed some royal prick with strong hands, sharp teeth, and an identity complex. So what? Nureyev would have tossed him to the side anyways, the moment he got bored. What was more thrilling than a cheap fling with a commoner? Juno was a walking distraction; he’d built his career around his ability to start ugly fights faster than anyone else. Once Peter saw past the smoke and mirrors, once he saw what Juno really was, he would be desperate to get rid of him. It was better this way. _Little monster._ At least now, Peter didn’t have to find out the truth.

Juno looked at the ground and blinked back the tears threatening to obscure his vision. He'd known this man for a day; he shouldn't be feeling like this. “I, uh, think you should go now. You don’t want to miss your party.”

Peter didn’t say anything as he walked to the door. He stopped with his hand on the door handle and said quietly. “I meant every word I said, Juno. Every word of it. I do hope we meet again. It could be... quite the adventure.” Juno didn’t answer, didn’t look up. He heard the door close behind Peter and grabbed himself a drink. What did he expect?


	6. No one listens to what Juno wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Juno thinks he done with Rex Glass/Peter Nureyev for good, he receives a visitor. But it's probably not the one you're all expecting...

Weeks had passed since Gla- Nureyev had left. Things were fine. Not good: they were never good. But they were fine. The smell of Nureyev’s cologne was finally out of his apartment, which was… better? It wasn’t what he wanted, but since when had that ever mattered. What _did_ matter was the work he was doing. The cases he took. Helping people. _Doing good._

When Juno got to his apartment that night, his body felt like lead. All he wanted to do was sleep until the sun gave out, and then sleep a little longer. Vicky had just dragged him on a case with her psycho ex-girlfriend, and over the course of one party, he’d been knocked unconscious, locked without weapons in a party filled with a hoard ravenous reporters, and knocked around by an adult entertainer/assassin. Knocked around in the assassin way, not the adult entertainer way. 

Juno unlocked the door, stepped inside, lit a candle, and froze. A mountain of a man in a brown jacket was sitting on his couch. “Hello,” the big guy said pleasantly. “I’ve been sent here to hire you for a job.” 

Juno put a hand on his crossbow. “Office hours are posted at my _office_, pal. If you’re at my apartment, you must _really_ want my help.” 

“I do not want your help. However, I work for someone who does, and they are willing to pay you handsomely for your services.” 

“Right. And who would that be?” 

“I am not at the liberty to say. I have also been told to inform you that it is a matter of some urgency.” Well, that was a red flag if Juno had ever heard one. 

“Uh huh. Well, sorry to make you break into my apartment for nothing Big Guy, but I don’t do jobs if I don’t know who I’m doing them for. It’s a lot less messy that way. “ 

“Very well. In that case, I have no further reason to be here.” He stood, and if Juno had thought that he was a mountain of a man before, now he was convinced that the Big Guy could break a lady’s bones like toothpicks. 

“Wait, so... What? You’re just going to leave? That’s it?” 

“Of course. It’s evident that you will not be swayed by any argument I could make.” 

“Wow. That’s…. unexpected.” 

“I do not wish to cause you any distress, Juno. Nor do I wish to be an unwelcome guest. I will leave as soon as I have finished serving as a distraction.” 

“Distraction? What distra-” Juno felt a prick in his neck, and by the time he’d turned around, the world was already going black. The last thing he saw before he hit the floor was a glimpse of green hair. 

  


When Juno woke up lying on the ground with his hands tied behind his back, it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. He knows well enough to keep his breathing steady and his eyes closed until he knows how to escape. He can tell that his coat is gone, not that it would help him any: he still hasn’t gotten around to stitching another knife into the sleeve. Still, _something_ is covering him. On top of that, the ground is rumbling beneath him, so… he’s hidden inside a cart. Around him, he hears the sounds of a bustling city. People shouting from windows, crying babies, the clatter of horses: good ol’ Oldtown. 

So, he weighed his options. He could jump out and run for it. Sure, he doesn’t like his odds against the Big Guy and Green Hair, but if he could get away anywhere, it’s in these streets. Alternatively, he could stay put, maybe get hit less, and definitely find out who went to all the trouble to kidnap him. He decided to go with option one. 

As quickly as he could, Juno rolled out of the carriage and took off sprinting. He heard a woman shouting angrily behind him; It could only be Green Hair. 

As he ducked between passersby, he realized something was wrong. He didn’t know these streets. Juno had explored every nook and cranny in Oldtown at ten years old. He could give directions from anywhere in the city that could cut a thirty minute trip into twelve, even including time to stop for lunch. He could give you a numbered list of streets categorized from most to least muggings. But this? He was running blindly. And that could only mean one thing. 

This wasn’t Oldtown. He skidded to a stop and turned around. Gleaming tall and elegant in the center of the city stood the royal palace. Nureyev’s home. He was in New Kinshasa. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” was all he got out before Green Hair came flying out of the crowd with murder in her eyes. With his hands still tied, she didn’t even need to pin him, just kick him to the ground. 

“You shouldn’t have run.” She snarled. 

“Well, see funny thing is, I’ve been trying cardio lately, and it’s a pretty strict schedule.” He said weakly, trying not to think about the bruise she had left on his ribs. “You’re not supposed to miss even a day of training-” 

“We should leave soon. It’s best we don’t draw attention to ourselves.” The Big Guy appeared out of nowhere and Juno yelped. Green Hair nodded and pulled Juno to his feet. She walked him back towards the cart as the Big Guy loudly announced. “Please, go about your business. We are operating as palace officials. Continue to go about your lives.” 

Juno snorted. “Palace officials, huh? So the _king_ wants to see me. Bet he won’t be too happy that you let that little detail slip.” He’d known Nureyev had ordered this from the moment he’d seen the palace, but it was satisfying to watch Green Hair clench her jaw and tighten her hold on him. Still, she kept quiet. Juno wondered if everyone in the capital was this chatty. As she sat him in the front of the cart between her and Big Guy, he kept up a steady stream of conversation. Not that they responded to any of it. On the way to the palace, Juno used all of his first-rate material, then all of his second-rate material. By the time they got to the palace gates, he’d resorted to knock-knock jokes. Normally it would have filled him with a perverse sense of satisfaction to watch Green Hair struggling between stabbing him and following orders, but secretly all he could think about was why the king would want him brought to the palace. Obviously it was because Juno knew he secret, but what could he want beyond that. He wouldn't just... _kill him_, would he? Get rid of the only person who was a threat to him?  


The cart drew to a stop and a redheaded woman in a show-stopping dress came out to meet them. Green Hair jumped out of the cart first, and didn’t stop to help Juno as she went to meet the stranger. 

“I take it things went well?” Red Hair said in a cultured accent. Nobility, probably. 

“Never again.” Green Hair growled. “Never again, Bud. I don’t care what the king orders, I’m not a courier. If he wants to talk to this lady so badly, he can get him himself.” Red hair kissed her on the forehead, which was a pretty affectionate greeting for someone who just called her _Bud._

“Go get some rest, darling. I’ll come talk to you as soon as I take the detective to the king.” Green Hair went inside and the Big Guy drove the cart towards the stables.  


Juno butted in. 'Who says I’m going anywhere with you? The weather's fine out here.” Red Hair turned to him, and one look told him that she’d torn stronger people than him to pieces. Then, she cut his hands loose. He rubbed the feeling back into them. 

“Juno, darling, did you know that I outrank everyone in this side of the palace? In practical terms that means that if I were to kill you right now with any of the numerous weapons on my person, no one within speaking or visual distance of me would have the authority to tell me not to. Furthermore, if I commanded, say, any of the guards posted nearby to kill you, then they would do so without hesitation. So to answer your question, I say you're coming with me. Oh, do try to keep up.” She turned and walked inside.  


He nodded awkwardly and followed. Alright, so she wasn’t just nobility. He’d have to keep an eye on her. 

As they passed people, guards straightened, nobility moved out of the way, and servants bowed. Who was this woman? 

They reached a particularly large set of doors and with a wave of her hand, the guards opened them. Inside was a wide chamber, with a dozen people seated at a large table and two dozen more standing around the room’s edges. In the center of the room, someone was giving a speech about taxes on imported farming equipment. 

And then Juno saw… him. Peter Nureyev. Wearing a long, silver dress embroidered with dozens of sparkling stones, sitting on a raised chair, and writing furiously on a paper in front of him. Juno couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to, which was good, because he never got the chance. 

The Red Headed woman whispered to a courier, who ran to the king and whispered in his ear. Juno didn’t know what he expected to happen when Nureyev saw them. Maybe a smile or wink, maybe a furious glare, maybe just blatant disgust. But when he finally turned to look at them, Juno didn’t see anything. A bored glance. Clinical disinterest. 

There wasn’t an ounce of recognition in Nureyev’s eyes as he looked at Juno. 

After a second, Nureyev turned back to the courier and whispered something. She ran and whispered it to Red Hair, who took Juno by the arm and steered him towards the door. 

“Hang on- I’m supposed to meet the king, right? That’s why you kidnapped me right? Seems like a waste to go to all that effort just to ship me back now.” 

“Wait your turn, darling. It will be some time before he’s able to see you, so he’s asked me to have you wait privately in his war room.” Juno got one last glimpse of Nureyev, running a hand through his hair as he leafed through a stack of papers in front of him, before the doors slammed shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juno, waking up in a cart:???  
Big guy: Hey you, you're finally awake. you were trying to cross the border, right?
> 
> But for real, I told ya'll I had plans for this AU. I'm super proud of this chapter so please please validate me. 
> 
> Am I cashing in on the s3 hype train? Absolutely.
> 
> Comments! Kudos! Appreciated!
> 
> And hey, If I've made any mistakes or my writing generally sucks, feel free to point it out. But in return you still have to leave a kudos anyways.


	7. None of Juno's Questions are Answered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says. Juno and Peter finally talk.

Red Hair shut him up in a small room filled with maps and charts. In the center of the room was a large round table surrounded by chairs. One chair, larger and more elaborate than the rest, was obviously Nureyev’s.

Peter Nureyev. King of Hyperion. Man of mystery. Thorn in Juno’s side.

This wasn’t the first time Juno had been kidnapped by a client. On average it happened every couple of months. Someone powerful wants to show off how powerful they can be, so they drag you out of your bed in the middle of the night, hit you around for good measure, and then tell you to do their dirty work _or else_. Juno wasn’t exactly overjoyed about that, but he’d accepted it as part of the job. Powerful clients wanted to put on a show of force, even when they needed help. But Nureyev wasn’t exactly putting on a show as far as abductions went. He hadn’t stuck Juno in a dungeon or forced him to beg for his life, either.

And _that_ scared Juno. Because when people try to show off how powerful they are, it’s a pretty good indication that they’re not as dangerous as they’d like you to think. But Nureyev had barely looked at him in that chamber, like Juno was a picture of a distant relative in a stranger’s house. Like he hadn’t told Juno who he really was. Like he hadn’t made Juno feel things he hadn’t felt in years.

He had no idea what Nureyev was going to do to him.

To pass the time, Juno went over the table and started leafing through the correspondence in front of the king’s chair, but we couldn’t make heads or tails of the symbols scattered across the page. It must have been some kind of code but…

“I see you’ve found my doodles.” A warm, familiar voice said. Juno whirled around to see Nureyev shutting the door behind him. “You have no idea how dull these meetings can be, but I suppose they can’t be avoided. Still, I need something to help me pass the time.” Juno looked back at the papers in his hand and realized that Nureyev was right: he was looking at a crude drawing of a cat.

“I- you- ” Juno struggled for words and Nureyev smiled.

“I’m sure you have many questions, detective, but I’m afraid I can’t answer most of them. Not yet. ”

“You _kidnapped_ me.”

“Not really a question, but I’ll allow it. Yes, I did ask Vespa and Jet to bring you here, and perhaps I implied that your cooperation wasn’t entirely necessary, but it was never my intent to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“I didn’t _want_ to wake up in New Kinshasa.”

“I needed your help.”

“To do what!”

“I can’t tell you that until you agree to help me.”

Juno laughed. “Right. Well, I can answer that for you right now-”

“Juno, please.” Peter closed the distance between them and took Juno’s hand. Any arguments Juno had died in his throat. “This is a matter of urgency and I am desperately in need of people who I trust. If you really want to go, I won’t hold you here. But think it over before deciding. See the city, tour the castle. You have free range to go wherever you want. I’ve even asked for a room to be provided for you. I only ask that you give my offer full consideration.”

“You haven’t even told me what your offer is!”

Peter took a deep breath and said slowly. “I need your help with a problem. In exchange, I will pay you considerably. I cannot tell you the details until I’m sure I have your cooperation.”

“How do you know I won’t just accept the job and bail on you as soon as you’ve told me what it’s about?”

“Because I trust you. In return for that, I only ask that you trust me. Just this once. Is that so hard to understand?”

“A little, yeah. Trust me? You barely know _me_.”

“This isn’t about knowing you, Juno." The king sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "We're clearly working off of different definitions of what _trust_ is.”

“_Clearly_,” Juno grumbled. “If you trust me so much, then why not tell me what the case is now?”

Nureyev explained with an exaggerated slowness. “I need your commitment because you wish to help me, not because you feel obligated once you hear the situation. I need it to be absolutely clear that once you enter my confidence, you become a player in a much larger game. I need you to understand the danger now, because once you’re involved, you may not be able to get out before the storm is over.”

“First of all, I don’t believe you.”

“Your denial knows no bounds!”

“I’d call it skepticism, but we’ll agree to disagree. Secondly, if you are telling the truth, you don’t need to protect me. My resume is one line that says ‘I make violent criminals want to violent crime me to death.’”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. You do have a penchant for finding trouble. Still, for my peace of mind, would you wait till tomorrow to give me your answer?”

“Fine. But don’t expect it to change. I have a busy life of drinking alone and nearly dying to get back to.”

Peter looked at him softly. “Thank you, really. I know this is… sudden.” Juno shifted uncomfortably, and Peter must have noticed because his posture became kingly again. “Now, if that’s everything for now, I’m sure there are dozens of things that desperately need my attention. Heavy is the head that wears the crown and so on.”

"Hang on, you haven't answered any of my questions!"

"I told you I couldn't. Someone should come by to take you to your room shortly."

"So what was the point of this then? You felt bad about ignoring me earlier?"

"Hmm? Oh, that! Apologies, I couldn't risk anyone knowing your significance."

"I'm significant?"

"Goodbye detective! Sleep well!" With that, Nureyev swept out the door, leaving Juno to glare at a crumpled doodle of a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... Hey... so... it's been a couple months, huh.  
But! The good news is that I wrote 3,000 words this weekend and I've got three chapters to edit before posting, so this fic isn't dead yet!  
it's been so long since I got to write something that I didn't have to turn in to a college or get peer reviewed by a class! I'm finally free!
> 
> Anyways give me comments and kudos and bookmarks and all that sweet sweet validation juice or else.


	8. Buddy's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buddy is a really fun character to write for, not gonna lie. I know I took a whole lot of liberties with her backstory, but it's an AU and canon hasn't given me much to draw from. 
> 
> Also: Worldbuilding!
> 
> Comments and Kudos appreciated!

Red Hair came back to get him a few minutes after Nureyev left. He almost refused to go with her out spite, but he wanted to stay put even less. She led him through dozens clean, winding hallways that were completely devoid of decoration. There weren’t any pretentious portraits of creepy dead rich people or suits of armor that had clearly never been worn. None of the jewels and glamour that Juno had come to expect from nobility. There weren’t even any windows or torches to mark where they were, though Juno could see everything clearly. Magic, probably. Was there a spell to light a room?

Rita would know. Hell, Rita would probably be able to rattle it off the top of her head, before naming three shows she’d seen where that spell had been used to save the day. He wished she was here. Then again, her sense of direction had almost gotten him killed more times than he could count. This place was like a maze, and he was already lost enough without-

Lost.

All of a sudden, it hit him. The winding halls, the lack of decor, the fancy spells just to make light. When looked at separately, it just pointed to way too much money and no taste for design, but taken together? It was all just one big maze. Sure, Red Hair didn’t seem to have any problems getting around, and all of the servants they’d passed seemed to know too. They’d been here for… years, probably. But for an outsider like Juno? He’d have better luck in one of the murder mazes from Cecil’s hit show “Escape! (It’s not likely)”.

And wasn’t this just the perfect place for a man like Peter Nureyev. Clean, bright, and faceless. Who knew what was lurking below the surface with either. His case- it was crazy, right? Do… _something_… for what? So that he didn’t get killed by the king? Was he going to get killed? This wasn’t what Juno had expected at all. He couldn’t trust Nureyev. He knew that. But his thoughts kept drifting back to the earnest, pleading way he’d looked at Juno as he’d asked him to take time to consider. The way his cologne had smelled as he’d moved closer-

Juno shut down that line of thinking.

There were other things to focus on. Like the fact that so far, Red Hair had led him up 6 staircases, down 5 more, through 2 secret panels, and along enough hallways to lap the palace twice. Red Hair, and those other two: what was their stake in all this? The Big guy and Green Hair hadn’t exactly been chatty, but maybe he could get a few clues out of her.

"So, Ms-”

“Buddy. Buddy Aurinko.” Huh. Well at least now he knew why Green Hair had called her Bud earlier.

“Buddy. What’s your deal? Half the people here trip over themselves when you look at them, but you’re still taking the time to show me around personally.”

She didn’t look at him as she responded. “Normally I would leave escorting you to the staff, but when there’s someone important visiting, I like to make sure I know who they are.”

“I’m someone important?”

“What would you call someone the king personally brings to the palace for a private meeting?”

“Unlucky.”

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong.” She smiled wryly and Juno decided he liked her. He wasn’t stupid enought to trust her, obviously, but he liked her.

“You said you aren’t staff. I figure you’re nobility, but there’s more to it than that, right?”

That won him an approving glance. “My, aren’t you observant. I _am_ technically nobility. The first of my line in fact. The king granted me a title about twenty years ago.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I staged an armed insurrection against his regime.” She spoke with the same gravity of someone commenting on the weather. He stared at her, trying to gauge whether or not she was joking. 

“Okay, I give up. What’s the punchline?”

She gave him a cool smile. “Oh, it’s no joke. I come from a smaller province to the north. You wouldn’t have heard of it. The only things around for miles were the political prisons set up by the old king regent and the dying villages who had paid for their construction. I decided that I preferred not to live hungry and miserable, so I freed the prisoners of the camps and assembled a militia. We were making great strides in fortifying our position and strengthening our forces when we got the news that the king’s regent Mag was dead by the king’s hand.”

Juno had been nineteen when Nureyev took over the throne, and he only vaguely knew the story that came with it. There were a hundred variations told by teachers from history textbooks, whispered by gossiping spouses, and argued about by street urchins. Yet all had the same basic idea: Peter Nureyev had been little more than a baby when his parents had died and Mag Ransom had taken over as regent. Mag had ruled through manipulation and secrecy, spiriting his political opponents away to hidden prisons, and separating young Nureyev from political life. Peter Nureyev grew old enough to see through the deception and killed Mag, taking the throne back for himself in the process. Since then, his reign had been one long struggle to undo the damage Mag had done. Most notably, in an effort to step out of the past, Peter had changed the name of the kingdom from Brahma to Hyperion, the kingdom of first light.

Buddy continued, tone turning thoughtful. “We were preparing to make our way south, towards the capital, when we saw a procession approaching us. The king had heard about us and our plans. But rather than go to war, he met with us to discuss terms. He understood our grievances and was eager himself to disband the prisons. Frankly, I think we were both relieved that we didn’t have to fight. I wasn’t willing to take on the force of his armies, and he wasn’t willing to take any more resources away from rebuilding efforts to wage a pointless war.”

“Still,” Juno said, impressed despite himself. “It seems like pretty good negotiation on your part if you got a title out of it. What are you, a lady? A duchess?”

“His general, actually. And it wasn’t one of my terms; it was one of his. It seems like raising a functioning army out of malnourished prisoners and villagers is quite the resume.”

A general. No wonder people were bowing and scraping as they’d passed. A thought occurred to him. “So hang on, if you’re that important, do you know why I’m here?”

“I’m one of the few that do, darling. Although I’d be a poor friend if I let_ that_ cat out of the bag.”

“Do you know him well?”

“We’re not _friendly_, if that’s what you’re asking.” She raised an eyebrow at him and he felt his face heat up.

“I wasn’t-”

“I know what you meant. You’re wondering whether you can trust him. Whether he can trust you. I can’t make that decision for you, darling. I can only tell you what I’ve seen, and what I’ve seen is a good man trying to keep a kingdom from falling apart around him.” They stopped in front of an unassuming door in a row of other unassuming doors. Buddy opened it to reveal a clean but simple room, with a dresser for clothes he hadn’t brought and a desk for writing to friends he didn’t have. “This is where I leave you, I’m afraid. You’re not the only errand I have to run. You’ve been interesting company. ”

“Is that a polite way of saying I stick out like a sore thumb?”

“You certainly catch on quickly. Still, it’s not a compliment I give to many.” She turned to leave but hesitated, the smile fading from her lips. “The king has put a good deal of faith in you, Juno. Perhaps more than he should. You’re not going to make him regret it.” She said it more as a statement of fact than a threat, but he got the message. She closed the door behind her, and he collapsed onto the bed with a groan.


	9. Jet's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's a few days late and it's not my favorite chapter, but it's here.   
Can you tell that I based Nureyev off of King Nikolai in King of Scars? It's not all lifted directly from the book, but it's too good of a backstory not to take advantage of.
> 
> Also I don't CARE that in s3 canon Jet doesn't know or trust Peter. It's MY found family and I get to make the rules.
> 
> comments and kudos and bookmarks and all that. I could use it.

Juno spent a few hours in his room before his growling stomach outranked his fear of never finding his way back. He went in search of a kitchen, hoping that no one would ask for money that he didn’t have.

When he was younger, his brother had made fun of him for overthinking the things he couldn’t change. Worrying wouldn’t put food in their bellies when Sarah was too drunk to work. Raging against Sarah never made her less likely to hit him. Turning Ben’s death over in his mind, again and again, wouldn’t bring him back.

But Juno could never let it go. So even though he knew with absolute certainty that there was no way in hell that he was going to take Nureyev’s case, that it would only get him or someone else killed, he thought about it anyways.

It would be stupid to agree, obviously. It was always a bad sign when someone wouldn’t tell you what they actually wanted from you, and the scandals always got worse the more important the client was. A simple affair could turn into an international organ harvesting scheme if he wasn’t careful.

And even if Juno took this job, what would happen if he couldn’t solve it? Sure, Nureyev had seemed nice. More than nice. But nice enough to bet his life on? He still wasn’t sure. For all he knew, Nureyev had taken more after his old advisor than anyone thought. After all, he’d done nothing but lie from the moment they met. Hell, he’d had Juno kidnapped. Abducting the only person alive who knew his secrets and telling him not to leave sure didn’t help his case. How was Juno supposed to trust a guy like that? He wanted to believe in Nureyev. He wanted to believe so much that it scared him.Despite… _everything,_ he didn’t feel like he was in danger.

But Nureyev was one hell of a manipulator. He’d proven that already.

God, Juno needed a drink. Where the hell was the kitchen?

After thirty minutes of stumbling through identical hallways and pretending he wasn’t completely lost, Juno thought he might finally be onto something. He triumphantly walked through a side door on the ground floor, only to realize he was in the same courtyard that Big Guy and Green Hair, (Jet and Vespa, Nureyev had called them) had brought him to.

The Big Guy was still in the courtyard, and he glanced up from where he was brushing a horse to nod at Juno.

Juno walked over. “Uh, hey…”

“Hello.”

“So… You’re not going to apologize for kidnapping me.” Maybe it wasn’t the best introduction, but Juno had had a long day.

“When I broke into your home, I gave you the option to come willingly. You refused.”

“That’s still kidnapping!”

“You are correct. However, since I was following the King’s orders, I feel comfortable in the knowledge that I was acting for the greater good.” For some reason he couldn’t explain, that thought put him on edge. It slid around his head like oil on water, brushing up against things he couldn't quite remember.

He took a few quick breaths, trying and failing to crush his frustration. “Oh come on. You don’t really believe that, do you? I mean, greater good? Seriously? Does everyone in this place have googoo eyes for that guy? How do you know he isn’t just that he isn’t just trying to get you to do his dirty work for him. Like, I don’t know, every other rich asshole ever?”

Nothing in the Big Guy’s posture or features changed, but Juno felt the air around them grow a little darker. The horse that the Big Guy was brushing shifted nervously. “I have great faith in the king. My loyalty to him was not blindly assigned. ”

“Let me guess, he pardoned you after you led a militia against him.”

“I see Buddy has already told you her tale. No, I was not pardoned.” There was a pause as Juno waited for him to continue.

“...And?”

“And what?”

“Why do you care? What skin do you have in this stupid game? You can’t just say ominous things like that and not elaborate.”

“I am perfectly capable of starting a story without finishing it. However, since you seem interested, I shall share mine with you. Perhaps it will give you guidance while deciding whether or not to take the king up on his offer.”

“Does everyone know about that but me?” Juno asked indignantly.

“No. Only Buddy, myself, and Vespa are privvy to that knowledge. However, I would not ask Vespa what the king has done to win her loyalty. It is highly likely that she will kill you rather than answer.”

The pieces fell into place as Juno realized that Big Guy was talking about Green hair. That meant right now he was talking to Jet. “She does give off that vibe, huh.”

“Indeed. Allow me to explain how I met the king.” Jet went back to brushing the horse. “I am the Palace Stablemaster. I come from a long line of Palace Stablemasters; it is a matter of great pride for me.”

“That’s great, Big Guy. You trust everyone your family works for? Must be annoying, changing your loyalty every time you get a new boss.”

“I must warn you that if you continue to complain, I will not tell you what you need to know. And I must correct you. We did not serve the kings. We served the horses.”

“You’re kidding.”

“They are very noble animals, Juno. Now be silent.” Juno crossed his arms and grumbled. “Excellent.” Jet said. “I was only a boy when the old king died and the regent Mag took over. My parents knew Mag. He was always kind to them, but he always demanded to much of his horses. A man who cannot be trusted with his animals cannot be trusted with his people. Thus, my parents saw the direction the kingdom was heading, and sent me away to live with my uncles, a short way outside of the city limits. They lived on the farm where we breed our horses, out of the king regent’s sphere of influence.”

Jet paused for a moment before continuing. “I was twelve when we received word that my parents had been imprisoned. They were supposedly involved in a plot against him. I have never believed this to be true, but despite my efforts, it seems that the true motive for their deaths was lost to the past. They died in captivity several months later.”

“Wow, thats…” Juno couldn’t think of what to say. He knew what it was like to lose the person closest to you. "I'm sorry."

“As am I,” Jet agreed. “But that is not the end of my story. Despite my sorrow, I learned my family’s craft well, and even developed a small clientele of farmers and distant nobles. I avoided any job that had to do with the crown, so that I could not somehow receive the same fate as my parents. I still don’t know whether it was necessary, or if the king’s regent had knowingly spared me. Regardless, one night, when I was eighteen, I was returning home from within the city when I saw a young boy being accosted by some goons in an alleyway. It was a poor district, and the boy’s clothes were expensive, despite the efforts he had taken to dirty them. The boy had taken down several of them, impressive for a child of his stature, but he was clearly tired and injured. I took care of the rest of the thugs. I was a much stronger man in my youth, so they proved no trouble.”

Considering he towered over Juno now, Juno couldn’t imagine the damage he could have done back then.

“The boy was very frightened of me at first. He stabbed me lightly.”

“He stabbed you?”

“Lightly stabbed, yes. I recovered, if that was not obvious.”

“No, I figured-”

“Good. Once I had convinced the boy that I was not a threat, he thanked me and we conversed. He was thirteen at the time, though I thought he could not have been more than ten. I warned him to go home to his parents, and when he refused, I took him to see my horses.”

“Why?”

“It seemed a better course of action then allowing him to die on the streets. Despite the fact that his clothes were now stained with blood, he would still be a lucrative mark. I knew he would not fall to any harm as long as I remained with him. After some time conversing, he told me that he was named Peter Ransom. This was not his real name. In fact, I later learned his true identity to be-”

“The king. Yeah, figured that out. What happened next?”

“For a lady whose career is largely comprised of stakeouts, you are surprisingly impatient.”

“Heard that one before.”

“Very well. Ransom asked to meet again, and it soon became routine for him to meet me several times a month and traverse the city. He never once spoke about his parents or home life, and I was unable to get a clear answer on anything personal that I pressed for. He told many stories about his life to people I introduced him to, but I knew all of them to be false. It was only me that he was unwilling to lie to, even though he was also unwilling to tell the truth. For years, he came to talk to me and learn about the kingdom. I found it strange how little he knew. He could memorize anything he heard, and listened attentively to everything and everyone around him, but until he came to visit me, he would not know of the bitter sentiment surrounding the latest tax bill or the whispers of family members dragged away to prison camps in the north. He would laugh and joke about his own obliviousness, but when we left, he would get very quiet. It was not hard to see that the rumors were weighing on him. 

During the months before the king regent’s death, he was more troubled than I had ever seen. He was sharp and irritable. Instead of going to one of the many sources of entertainment around the city, where we would normally converse with friends, he opted to stay at my farm with the horses. I had grown to care for him a great deal over the years, and I considered him a brother. I pressed him for information, more forcefully than I had done in previous years. It was clear that he was running from something. I told him that my family would be there to protect him. At this point he grew agitated and left quickly. I did not see him again until three months after the regent’s death.”

He looked at Juno, to see if he was going to interrupt again, but all of Juno’s comments had died in his throat as he listened, enraptured by Jet’s story. “When I next saw Ransom, it was not as a boy under cover of night. He was a newly christened king, riding to my door with procession. He introduced himself as Peter Nureyev. By this time, I had already guessed at his true identity, so I felt no sense of betrayal at the revelation. He told me that he had heard tale of my family’s role at the castle and asked if I would resume my role as the palace StableMaster. I refused.”

“You refused? But he was offering you the job of a lifetime, and you just said that you weren't mad at him.”

“I was not mad at him. I simply wanted him to tell me himself.”

_“What_.”

“Let me clarify. I wanted to talk to the boy I had cared for for years, not the man who had come to my door, trying to win me over with fame and fortune.”

“I- guess that makes sense.” Hadn’t Juno wanted the same thing from Rex Glass? Looking for some truth in the man behind the mask? This story was starting to sound eerily familiar. Was it supposed to? This couldn't be another trick, could it?

“For several months, he came back, always as a king, asking if I had changed my mind. I always refused. Then he started sending messengers instead. Soon enough, the messengers stopped arriving as well. I assumed that I would never see Ransom again. However, late one night, nearly a year into his reign, he showed up at my door dressed as a commoner and accompanied by no procession. He didn’t want to hire me, only to ask if I hated him. I had never hated him, and I don’t think I ever could. I told him as much and he spoke to me his tale. This is, of course, not my story to tell, so I will exclude it from my recollections.”

“Of course you will.”

“-However, it convinced me to join his employ as the Stablemaster, which leads me to where we are now, sitting here.” Jet stood, and somehow it had slipped Juno’s mind just how large Jet actually was. “I have finished my work, and will now retire to my quarters. It has grown late, Juno. I suggest you do the same.” He walked the horse to the stables.

“Wait! Hang on, goddamn it. So that’s it then?” Juno shouted to his retreating back. “What about- what about the king? You said you were going to tell me whether or not I could trust him.”

“I did not.” Jet called without turning around. “I merely said that I trusted him, and that I hoped my story could lend you some guidance.”

“What guidance? What- what am I supposed to take away from that? That he lies a lot? I already had that one figured out, thanks.” No answer. “Yeah, good talking to you. You’ve been a real help.” Silence. Juno didn’t know if he was being ignored or if Jet had actually left. After a long moment, he growled and whirled to go back inside. The Big Guy was right; it was dark out, and it would take Juno another thirty minutes to find his room again if he didn’t start now.

Besides, Jet had clearly said all he was going to say.


	10. Juno Finally, Maybe, Sort Of Gets Promised Some Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juno finds out why Nureyev hired him.

Juno’s mind was a whirl as he tried to retrace his steps. What was it with this place and secrets? Everyone seemed to have things they wanted to tell Juno and things they wanted to keep him far away from. It was getting to the point where Juno couldn’t tell what he was expected to know, what he was expected to find out, and what he was supposed to rely blindly on.

He did know one thing: despite how honest and open everyone was being, they were working hard to keep Nureyev’s secrets as far out of view as possible. Well, most of them, anyways. Apparently Nureyev hadn’t minded telling Juno that he frequently endangered the safety of the kingdom by wearing stupid disguises and jumping headlong into danger. But _god forbid_ he actually _talk_ to Juno and tell him _why_ he’d had him kidnapped.

Plus, what was he supposed to make of Jet’s story? And Buddy’s for that matter. He knew the image they were supposed to present. A hero king that that had a soft rebellious side beneath his polished exterior. What lady wouldn’t want to be swept up in a story like that? Only problem was, Juno had enough experience with the elite to know that the postcard was always better than the destination. He’d seen enough backstabbing, enough mad tyrants, enough _filicide_ to last the rest of his lifetime.

_ Little Monster. _

He shook himself. No.

No, there had to be another angle here. Maybe Vespa was involved? She was the only person who’s secrets he hadn’t been told. More than that, he’d been specifically warned away from her. That was an invitation if he’d ever heard one. He’d try to find her tomorrow, before he gave Nureyev his answer… Juno stopped. He was going to tell Nureyev “No.” There was no reason to go and find Vespa and try and find out more. He didn’t need to. He was leaving tomorrow.

The halls had cleared of servants now. It was just Juno, wandering through the darkened halls, hoping to see something familiar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone turn a corner.

He almost called out to them, just so they could give him directions, but something stopped him. As quietly as he could, he followed. It was probably nothing, but he hadn’t lived this long by ignoring his gut feelings.

As they walked through the dark, Juno realized what was bothering him. The figure wasn’t carrying a candle. And sure, neither was Juno, but if the figure worked here, then why wouldn’t they light the way? Then there was the way they walked. The figure was trying not to be noticed. Juno recognized that careful gait; he’d spent his childhood perfecting it to avoid his mother.

They were in a part of the castle that Juno didn’t recognize. The doors were bigger and grander, there was more space between them, and even the occasional window. Juno kept his distance as he ran through the possibilities. Was there a curfew at the palace? It would explain why the figure was so hesitant to get caught. An affair maybe? Probably of different social standings if there was this much secrecy around it.

The figure stopped in front of an elaborate pair of double doors and hesitated for a moment. Juno was about to write the whole thing off and go back to looking for his room, when there was a flash of light through the darkness.The glint of moonlight off of smooth, sharp metal.

The figure was holding a knife.

Juno only had a moment to let that knowledge sink in before the figure slipped inside the room.

_Okay. Not an affair._ Or if it was, it was one that was about to end very, very badly. Juno followed, sacrificing stealth for speed. He shoved the door open to see the figure raising the knife over an occupied bed.

“Hey!” Juno shouted as he rushed them, all too aware that he didn’t have any weapons. “Hands where I can see them!” The figure jerked in surprise, and Juno took to opportunity to grab their arm and squeeze, forcing them to drop the knife. The figure recovered quickly, using their free hand to sock Juno in the jaw. Juno took a step back, and the figure reached for the knife. Juno was just about tired of this. He reached behind him for the first solid object he could find, and slammed it over their head.

The figure dropped like a sack of bricks as the object shattered over their head. A candle flickered to life. “Juno?” asked a confused, sleep-addled, shirtless Peter Nureyev. “What are you- oh.”

Juno rubbed a hand over his face. “Sure. Of course this would be your room. Who else.”

The door slammed open for the second time that night and Buddy rushed in, wielding a broadsword. Her hair was up in curlers, revealing a horrible scar across half her face. One of her eyes was gone, replaced with a glass copy that moved in sync with her organic one. He wondered if she could see out of it. “Peter? Are you quite alright? Where is- oh.” She noticed Juno. “Hello darling, good to see you again.”

“Hey Buddy,” he said, more casually than he felt. “I don’t suppose this guy I found trying to assassinate your king has anything to do with the job no one will tell me about?”

She lowered her sword and looked to Peter. “You know, that’s a very good question.”

Nureyev sighed. “I’d be more than willing to answer your questions, but this doesn’t seem appropriate business to discuss from bed. I would like to save until after I’ve gotten dressed.”

“Until you’ve gotten- hey!” While Juno was trying to catch up, Nureyev had slipped out of bed, completely naked. Juno stared hard at the floor, cheeks heating up as the king stepped behind a changing divider. “Warn a lady, would you?” He glanced at Buddy, trying to see if she was as startled as he was. She gave him a knowing smile.

“Apologies, detective. It wasn’t my intention to wound your modesty. Things are about to get a tad hurried, and I doubt I’ll have another moment to get ready.”

Vespa slammed through the doors for the third time that night. “I searched the palace, Bud. No one was there- You!” She caught sight of Juno and pulled out a pair of wicked-looking daggers. “Where the hell is the king?”

“Oh sure, blame me for this mess-” Juno started, rearing back for an argument that would probably end with a knife to his gut.

“No need to get up in arms, Vespa.” Nureyev said wearily, stepping out from around the screen. “As you can see, I am perfectly alive and unharmed.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she growled.

“I assure you, Juno took matters into his own hands before the assassin’s knife got anywhere near me. Actually, you might want to check him. I heard him get hit during their fight.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” She said as she prowled over to Juno. He tensed, but she only sheathed her knives and tilted his head to examine the spot where he’d been hit. After a long moment, she released him with a snarl. “He’ll live.”

“Vespa…” Buddy chided.

“Fine. It should bruise, probably be sore for a few days, but the hit didn’t even break the skin. Put some ice on it to keep the swelling down. Come see me in the kitchens if anything is wrong. Now can we please get down to business?”

“Of course,” Nureyev agreed. “I was just about to explain everything to Juno. As I’ve expressed, I hoped to keep this quiet until he agreed to the case, but…” his gaze slid over the pool of blood spreading from the body on the floor. “I think that chance has passed.”

Juno exploded. “You’re goddamn right it has. Why the hell didn’t you tell me there was someone trying to kill you?”

“I didn’t want to pressure you to take the case. If I told you that I was going to be killed, you would rush into things without realizing the danger of the situation.”

“So you were just willing to die if I said no?”

“I knew you would agree. And if you had rushed in, we would both end up dead, which I consider to be a far worse outcome than my own death. The world is better for your presence in it, Juno Steel.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Juno flushed.

“_That._ Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, alright? You don’t have to pull that- that _Rex Glass_ stuff on me to get what you want. I’m already going to take the case.”

“Detective, I’m not sure I follow, but- You’re taking the case?”

“I-” Juno hadn’t realized it himself until the words left his mouth, but his dread and certainty were mounting. God, this was a nightmare. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll consider. But I have conditions.”

“Name them.”

He hadn’t thought this far again. He needed Rita. Rita would help him figure out this whole mess. “My secretary. Back in Oldtown. She doesn’t know where I am. If I take this case, she comes too. I mean, assuming she wants to come.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Nureyev’s lips. “Of course.”

“Two. If I hear anything I don’t like, I walk. I know you’ve got this whole master plan set up, but I don’t care. The moment you or any of your cronies step out of line, I’m going back to Oldtown, and you can fend for yourself.”

“I assure you, that won’t be necessary.”

“_Nureyev._ Yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Third, and this sort of relates to my earlier point.”

“I’m all ears.” “We do this by the law. No killing, no imprisonment without trial, no divine justice. That doesn’t mean none of us can defend ourselves if we have to, but… I worked with enough nobility to know how power changes people. That’s not happening if I take this case.” 

"While I’m disappointed you think so little of me-”

“I didn’t-”

“-I’ll of course accept that demand. That’s been common procedure for the last fifteen years of my reign.”

“Good. Okay. Alright. I want this in writing too. All of it. My conditions, what I’m agreeing to, everything. Just in case something happens to me. You’re not going to make me disappear so easily a second time.”

“Very well. Although, if you don’t mind me saying, you seem much more skittish than the during our first meeting.”

“Great timing, you just brought me to my fourth condition.”

“Oh?” Juno glanced at Vespa and Buddy, who were now occupied in examining the assassin. Vespa was examining their head wound while Buddy prodded them with her foot. They weren’t listening. “None of… that. Flirting. Bringing up the past. Walking around undressed. I’m here for a job, not a honeymoon. What we had… all that stuff that happened. It wasn’t real. We were both overwhelmed by everything that happened and it got to our heads. We both said some dumb stuff. I just want to move on.”

“I-” For the first time, Nureyev looked hesitant. “Of course. Juno I’m- I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or pressured you into anything-”

“Look, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Just cut it out.” Nureyev nodded. For some reason, Juno felt a twinge of disappointment. “Anything else?” Nureyev raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. One last thing. Ten times my usual rate.”

Nureyev’s lip quirked upwards. “That’s perfectly doable Juno. Do we have a deal then?”

Juno eyed Peter Nureyev: the man who had kidnapped him, lied to him, and nearly gotten him killed about twenty times over.

The man who had kissed him in a dingy, dimly lit office.

“Yeah. Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So,,, I haven't updated in a month. The good news is, that I have about 10,000 unposted words of this fic in a google doc so it's not like i've given up on it! Don't worry! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


	11. Let's get down to business! To defeat! Whatever mysterious attackers are after the King!

While Vespa and Buddy got to work doing… whatever it was that they were doing, Peter led Juno to a sitting room off of the main bedroom to talk. The king was unsettlingly nonchalant for a man who had almost been murdered minutes ago. Then again, he was nothing if not an actor. 

Juno took a breath and pulled his thoughts together. “Start at the beginning. Who’s trying to kill you?”

He didn't so much as blink. “We’re unsure at the moment.”

“Okay… Why are they trying to kill you?”

“I could only guess.”

“Wow, real helpful.”

Nureyev cocked his head playfully. “Well, there is a reason I wanted a detective looking into these things. If I could do this without you, I would have left you at home.”

“Alright, fine, but you have to give me something. Piss anyone off lately?”

“More people than I could count.”

“Oh yeah?”

“In the wake of the Kanagawas, I considered it prudent to pass some anti-corruption legislation.”

Juno gave a wince of sympathy. “Yeah, I can see how that wouldn’t make you a lot of friends in this place. Is there anyone who would actually have the guts to take you out?”

“Oh, I’d say… a little more than three quarters of the members of my court- that is, those nobility who live in the palace, and a little less than half of the nobility who live on their own land. I can provide you with a list of names of people who are outspoken against me, but it’s rare for people to speak their mind here. And of course, there’s nothing to say my would-be-assassin’s employer isn’t from another kingdom or merely a disgruntled civic-minded citizen.”

“You have that many people inside your own palace that want to kill you?”

Peter grimaced. “Indeed. Removing those loyal to Ma- the previous king regent has proved more difficult and time-consuming than expected. Despite my distaste for many of their… excesses, I cannot get rid of the nobility all together.”

“Okay, so just to clarify: someone wants to kill you, but you don’t know Who, Where, or Why.”

“Precisely.”

“Well, that just leaves the How and I hope for your sake, Nureyev, that you can answer that.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“How do you know someone wants to kill you? Did you get, what, an anonymous tip? A page from an unprinted history book with your time and date of death written on it? A secret threat coded in flower language?”

“The ease with which you suggested those raises several questions about your chosen profession.”

“You saw what I had to deal with with Cecil and you think those were weird cases?”

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.“Yes, that was an interesting day. And to answer your question, this isn’t the first time an assassin has come to kill me recently. About a week after we parted, someone tried to poison my wine. I detected it instantly of course." His face darkened. "Clearly, someone hadn’t been well informed about my childhood.”

“Why? what happened during your childho-”

“Regardless-" Peter cut him off sharply, face smoothing over into a mask of professionalism. "-things escalated from there. The next day while leaving the palace on business, an arrow intended for my heart struck a courtier in the shoulder. I tried to apprehend the archer, but during my pursuit they were killed.”

_Killed,_ Juno thought distantly. Had Nureyev killed them? Did he have someone else kill them? The king had said that everyone got a fair trial, but the dead assassin in the room behind sure hadn't. It wasn't as if he hadn't lied to Juno before. Juno swallowed the bubble of mistrust that rose in his throat. No, he had agreed to trust the king, so he would. 

Nureyev continued. “We surmised that the threat had been taken care of until two days later, when an explosive device was planted in a carriage I was supposed to be taking to a wedding. I was, of course, riding beside it disguised as a guard, so I wasn’t harmed in the explosion.”

“Of course you weren’t.”

"_Juno,_" Nureyev said tiredly. It occurred to him that maybe the king was not so laissez-faire over his death as it had first seemed. “Over the next several weeks, I faced about a dozen assassination attempts. I have been shot at, nearly stabbed, nearly drowned, venomous animals have been let loose in my room, cursed magical items have been left for me to touch, and I am so very, very tired, Juno. I cannot keep escaping death by the skin of my teeth. At some point, even my considerable luck and honed skills will fail me. I would have certainly been killed tonight if not for your intervention.” He paused as if a thought had just occurred to him. “How did you know to save me by the way? You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to be anywhere near my bedchamber-” Juno shot him a warning look. “-and while I’m not ungrateful, I am puzzled as to why I awoke to see you standing over a dead assassin and the remains of the three hundred year old statue you had killed them with.”

“Is that what that was?” “

If it’s any condolence, it was a very ugly statue.”

Before Juno could answer, there came a knock on the door. Buddy’s voice called out “Pete, if you’ve just about brought Juno up to speed, we need to focus on more pressing matters.”

“Of course,” Nureyev said, opening the door. “I’m sure Juno can figure out the rest as he goes along. He’s rather skilled in that regard.”

Buddy sighed. “Yes, you’ve told me. Repeatedly.”

Before Juno could unpack that sentence, he caught sight of Jet over her shoulder, carrying the body out of the room. “Wait, what’s going on? What are you doing?”

“Disposing of the body, of course,” Buddy said. “It would raise too many questions if a corpse were to be found in the king’s room.”

“But can’t you just say ‘Hey, another assassin tried to kill me?’”

Buddy turned to Nureyev in confusion. “

Ah, yes,” He said. “I forgot to mention. No one outside of this room knows that these assassination attempts are happening.”

“_What._”

“No one wants a weak king, Juno. One mysterious enemy trying to kill me is more than enough; I don’t need anyone else getting ideas that I’m vulnerable.” “

Well yeah, but still.” Juno floundered. “Maybe don’t advertise, but- but what about the palace guards? Wouldn’t it be helpful if, I don’t know, the people that you paid to protect you were actually able to protect you?”

Surprisingly, it was Buddy that answered. “Juno, you were part of the city guard for Oldtown correct? Before the unfortunate incident that resulted in your termination, of course.”

He glanced at Nureyev. It wasn’t exactly something Juno was proud to talk about. “...Yeah. What’s that got to do with this?”

“Tell me; the guards you worked with, were they the tight lipped sort? The kind that could keep news like that to themselves when the day ended and they made their way to bars and families and whatnot. Or would they spill those secrets as soon as their lips were wet with alcohol.”

“I-”

“And supposing that they did keep that information to themselves, how can you be sure that that would make them more inclined to do their jobs. How many bribes did you see change hands during your time on the force, Juno? Dozens? Hundreds? And that was on a very small scale. Whoever is behind these attacks was able to hire not one, but multiple assassins to do their dirty work. And beyond that, there is the matter of the vocal scarring-”

“The what?”

"Magically induced scarring on all of the assassins throats," Buddy explained. "Do keep up, darling. None of them can talk. And whoever caused that scarring had enough money to convince multiple people to go through that process. My point is, when these guards are offered enough money to feed their families for years, just to look the other way, they’d be fools not to take it.”

Juno chewed on his lip, thinking the problem over. Cases like this were just about the worst kind of job a P.I could take. There were a million possible directions this could go and he knew that it would only lead to secrets he wasn’t here to find. One wrong lead could send him chasing after a person for weeks, only to find that the reason they were running was because they had committed six completely different atrocities that didn’t relate at all to his case.

Plus, these weren’t your everyday killers and adulterers. These were the richest of the rich: the privileged few who had made a sport out of causing drama and didn’t understand the word “no”. If investigating the Kanagawas had been like kicking a hornet’s nest, then looking into the king’s court was going to be like stealing from a rabbit’s nest. All in all, it was almost enough to make him rethink asking Rita to come along.

He realized with a start that taking the case was no longer a question for him. There was no backing out. He was going to save the king’s life or die trying.

His realization must have shown on his face because Nureyev asked “Is something wrong, detective?”

“I-” He coughed. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just- when do we get started?” Nureyev flashed him that fox’s smile, but there was something on the edge of it that Juno couldn’t quite place. Relief, maybe? Apparently he hadn’t been as certain that Juno would help him as he’d claimed.

“I’ll have Buddy begin working with you tomorrow morning. As for your secretary, I’ll send Jet to fetch her tomorrow.” Buddy nodded and left again to join Vespa.

Juno looked between them.“Hang on, what am I doing with Buddy?”

“She’ll be teaching you everything you need to know, both about this case and also to pass in high society. The names of each noble and what family they belong to, political factions and court politics, and of course which fork to use during a banquet.” Juno prickled.

“Look, I know I stand out around here, but is all that really necessary?”

“Yes." It was probably the most straightforward answer Nureyev had ever given him. "These nobles don't know you. You won’t get any information from them unless they believe you’re one of them. That unfortunately means undercover work.”

"Uuuuggghhhh."

“Oh, cheer up detective. It’s no different from how you normally get your hands dirty, except you'll be wearing a nicer dress.”

“Okay, but even if I talked to the nobles in your court, that wouldn't guarantee that I find your culprit. That probably won't even cover a third of the suspects. You know, the ones who live all over the kingdom? How am I supposed to find out if one of them is behind this? Searching all of Hyperion could take months, and you said it yourself that we’re under the gun. You don’t have months to waste.”

“We won’t need months.”

“We… won’t?”

“We won’t, because in three days, I’m hosting a grand jubilee in honor of my twentieth anniversary as king. I’ve extended an invitation to nobility far and wide.”

Juno blinked. The anniversary of the day Nureyev became king? The same day he’d killed the regent Mag? Maybe Juno wasn’t kingly enough to understand, but it didn’t seem like much of a day for celebration. Sure, the guy had been a real piece of work, but it was pretty cold on Nureyev’s part to hold a party to pat himself on the back for a murder well done. No, that wasn’t the job right now. For good or bad, he was solving this case. Whether or not Nureyev was a murderous tyrant didn’t play into that. Speaking of the case...

“You, uh, You’re sending an invitation? How do you know everyone will accept?”

Peter smiled thinly at him. “Apparently you haven’t been well informed on court politics. An invitation from the king is something every noble dreams of. It’s a chance for power, wealth, alliances, and most importantly: gossip. A man such as myself doesn’t make many public appearances, you see. There is only one thing more intriguing than myself, an unmarried king in need of an heir, and that is the people who don’t attend. Anyone who skips an invitation risks invoking my ire, or worse, the interest of the other nobility. No, the dead and the dying wouldn’t dare risk failing to attend.”

Juno grumbled and ran a hand through his hair. Nureyev watched the motion, then glanced away quickly. “Alright, then…I guess I’m going to a party.”

“Well, you could at least try to sound excited. It’s only the biggest event this kingdom has seen in twenty years.” “

Yippee,” Juno deadpanned, and Nureyev’s smile widened into a wicked grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Since Tools of Rust Part 2 didn't give me my bimonthly Juno fix, I guess I have to give it to myself.   
More Drama! Enjoy!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!
> 
> And speaking of which, thanks so much to everyone who's left comments and kudos so far. Ya'll are my lifeblood honestly. We all need validation once in a while so thank you.


	12. Juno gets some TherapyTM and listens to none of it

“Uh… this one?”

“Try again, darling.”

“Buddy, we’ve been at this for hours. A lady needs to sleep.”

“You can sleep as soon as you can tell me which fork to use for a dessert course if someone of higher status is sitting to your right.” Juno groaned and let his head fall to the table, scattering the cutlery that Buddy had laid out. They were working in a small dining room which Buddy had outfitted with history books, extensive family trees, suspect lists, and enough silverware to make even the most refined nobility sneak glances at their dinner companions to figure out which knife was the most proper.

She pursed her lips and sat down next to him. “Don’t take my strictness for a lack of sympathy, Juno. When I first came to the castle, I was doing far worse than you are now. You at least seem to understand the structure of nobility and have a basic formal education, lord knows how. We’ve already established that you can dance, bluff your way through a conversation you know nothing about, avoid revealing your identity when put under pressure, and schmooze like you were born to do it.

When I first got here, I couldn’t do anything without the force it took to lead armies. It took time and patience to learn to read the subtleties of court politics. I’m afraid I made a good many blunders in my early days. If you had been anything like I was, teaching you everything in three days would be impossible. Thankfully, you don’t need to learn an entirely new skill set of acting and lying and picking apart compliments for hidden meanings. All you have to do is memorize the necessary information and you can make it through the rest. Now, If you’re tired of table placement and manners, we can go over your alias again.”

Juno raised his head to give her an incredulous look. “Again? I’ll be reciting ‘Madame Dauphin, age 38, Outer Provinces’ in my sleep.”

“Then I'm doing my job correctly, darling.”

Before Juno could raise another complaint, the door slammed open and a short, colorful figure made a beeline for him. Buddy and Juno stood and instinctively dropped their hands to their weapons. Before either of them could draw however, the blur collided with Juno’s middle and buried her salmon stained face in his jacket, which did nothing to muffle her tremendous volume.

“Oh my gawd Mistah Steel, you wouldn’t BELIEVE the day I’ve been havin’! First, you went missin’, which was real scary ‘cause you didn’t show up for work and at first I thought that maybe you had overslept or just gotten cursed to fall into a coma by your secret evil dragon stepdad like Tai Lee in Secret Evil Dragon Stepdad 2: The Sequel, which Franny says is better than the original but of course that’s CRAZY because The Sequel didn’t even have a dog wedding. Well, it did have the doggy divorce, but that ain’t half as cute.”

Buddy had taken her hand away from her sword after a moment of decision, and now watched as Juno tried and failed to disentangle himself from his secretary’s vice-like hug.

“ANYWAYS I went over to your apartment and it wasn’t locked at all, which ain’t like you at all ‘cause you always lock your door, even when you KNOW little ol’ Rita is coming over with snacks to talk to you and then I have to wait outside for ten minutes while you come to unlock it and I thought it was REAL suspicious. Like what if GANGSTERS broke inta your home to steal you up and give ya to a monster to appease it from eating a buncha villages? OR you got replaced by an evil clone of yourself that wanted to buy up all the sandwiches in the city.”

“Rita, that’s great, but-”

Rita pulled away from Juno and shook herself. “No, I ain’t getting distracted! I've been waitin' to tell you for the whole cart ride an' it's been bubbling up inside me like when I eat too many salmon flavored dusty crunchies from behind your couch-"

"Rita, those are dust bunnies-"

"-or when you get punched real hard and you keep hacking up blood-"

"Fights that bad barely happen twice a month Rita, I don't know why you keep bringing it up-"

"AND SO You weren’t at your apartment and I said to myself ‘Rita, it’s up to you to save the boss.’ I searched all over the city and put up posters with your face on ‘em, asking if anyone had seen ya, and I looked and looked and I only took a few teensy breaks for snacks, and then just when all hope seemed lost: who should show up but your friend Mistah Jet! And he was very nice and very big and said he knew where you were and that he was supposed to take me to you and I told him ‘No way am I going anywhere with you until I know Mistah Steel is okay’, which you are.

I especially didn’t believe that you were in the palace with the king because, come on, just because a gal might not know how to light a candle without setting her sleeve on fire, doesn’t mean she can’t think something sounds too good to be true, and I swear, the king kidnapping a detective to help him solve an unsolvable case is exactly the plot of this one story I heard just the other day, except instead of a king it was a dying actor and instead of a detective it was a time-travelling politician. Anyways, he told me that you told him to use our secret special code, which he did, just like in Monster Mangoes on Mercury XXVII: The Revenge of the Revenge of the Revenge of the Plutonian Potatoes where Sargeant Starch tells his secretary Goldie that he’s been captured by Major Very-Old-Mango using a secret code, except I knew that if you had been captured than you wouldn’t have used our secret special code for real. You’d use a fake code to throw them off our tracks so that lil’ ol’ Rita could stage a rescue operation. So I came here and you’re okay and alive and I missed ya boss.”

“Yeah I-” He coughed awkwardly. “You, uh, you too, I guess.”

Buddy took the silence as an opportunity to introduce herself. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Buddy Aurinko.” She held out a hand for his secretary to kiss, which she did, giggling to herself as Juno rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you two a moment to catch up.” Rita watched starry-eyed as Buddy cleared away several books and maps and left the room.

“You know she’s married,” Juno said lightly. Rita made several unintelligible noises of dismay and he cracked a smile for the first time in days. “Did Jet give you the rundown on everything?”

Rita was practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh yeah boss! I can’t believe you’re gonna be dressin’ up pretended to be a fancy rich lady tomorrow. Oh, it’s so exciting. I asked if I could come too but Mistah Jet said there wasn’t enough time to learn everything, which seems pretty rude to me, considerin’ how he doesn’t know much about how fast Rita can learn when she needs to eat snacks at a fancy party.”

“I’ll bring you back a pocket full of whatever they have, scouts honor.”

“Oh would you Mistah Steel? That would be amaz-Oh! Can you ask if they have any Salmon-Flavored Dusty Crunchies?”

“Rita, this is a fancy event. They’re not gonna have- nevermind.” He looked around the room and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

“Me either, boss. Although, it’s a lot less decorated than I pictured. They ain’t got no tapestries or nothin’.”

“No, that’s not-.” He sighed. “I just- I need help, Rita.”

“I’ve been saying so for years, boss! Ya know, Franny is a licensed psycho-theraputist-whatevah.”

“I don’t need therapy, Rita. I’m saying that I don’t know what I’m doing here, or why, or how I’m supposed to fix any of this. I mean- look at this place. This is- this is big. Bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with, and probably more dangerous too. Hell, I probably shouldn’t have made you come along in the first place and-”

“Mistah Steel?”

“-don’t know anything about the king, and how am I supposed to memorize everything about-”

“Mistah Steel, you’re doin’ that thing again where your brain gets all woobly and all ya can see is the bad stuff.”

“-if Vespa doesn’t murder me in my sleep before an assassin does. I have no idea why they trust me-”

“Boss!”

“I- yeah?”

“It’s okay. Rita’s gonna fix everything and catch that super secret evil monster with eight heads and laser eyes and mind control powers before you can say Song of the Frog Cattle: Amphibian Cowboys."

Juno took a slow, shaky breath as Rita’s words worked their magic on his rising heart rate. After a moment, he said “These people are dangerous, Rita. Not like Cecil or Vicky. They don’t need to trap you in a contract or force you into the limelight to take you down. They can just… order someone to kill you. Order anyone to kill you. That’s all it would take. Doesn’t that scare you? I mean, what do you think power like that does to a person? What does that turn you into?”

Rita side-eyed him. “Mistah Steel, do you have a reason to think that Mistah King Nureyev is gonna kill ya in your sleep?”

“Not really, but-”

“And has Mistah King Nureyev evah tried to hurt you before?”

"Well I mean-”

“And didn’t Mistah King Nureyev ask you for his help to do this super special task that no one else can solve because he thinks you’re just the greatest?”

“I wouldn’t say-”

“So then if ya don’t got any reason not to trust him, then why are ya so scared?” She lowered her voice to prove how serious she was. “Look Mistah Steel, I get that you don’t trust rich folks, or nice folks, or any folks really, but you said this is the biggest case we evah took. And you can’t throw away an opportunity like this just because you don’t trust it when a good thing happens. Sure, Mistah King Nureyev and pretty Miss Buddy might have big fancy jobs, but that don’t mean that they’re evil. After all, you coulda hurt a lot of people when you worked as a city guard, but you didn’t, and Mx. Falco didn’t either. And neither did plenty of other people, probably.” Juno gave a snort of disbelief. The Oldtown guard wasn’t exactly known for the plethora of charming, helpful personalities it provided.

“Anyways, all of that is just to say that ya gotta give people a chance, Mistah Steel. And if they end up to be secret bad guys, or dragons, or bees that take the shape of women to perform in their twisted games of Sport, then we’ll beat them like we always have.” She put her small chubby hands on his cheeks and looked him dead in the eye. “Plus, I ain’t leavin before I get to dress you up all fancy, ya hear me? Rita’s gonna give you a makeover!”

Juno blinked. Rita had her own special system of communication that mixed bizarre metaphors and references to things Juno had never seen, with genuine heartfelt sentiment, with her own confusing wants and needs. She could be almost inspirational when someone needed it most, if they could figure out what she said.

This had been one of her clearer pep talks, but he still wasn’t sure he got the message. Trust was something that had to be earned. Rita had earned it after everything she had done and put up with for him over the years. Sasha had earned it, right until she’d sold out and gone to work for the king. Rex Glass had almost earned it, back at the Kanagawas.

The idea that he should just trust people implicitly was insane. Should he have trusted his mother not to break things after she’d spent too long in a bottle? Trusted that Min Kanagawa only wanted him to find her husband’s killer without ulterior motives? Maybe he should just walk outside every morning with his coin purse full, in clear sight for anyone to see.

Why would he just let people hurt him? Rita always going on about how he needed to be more careful about putting himself in harm’s way. Wasn’t that what he was doing? Protecting himself? This whole time, Nureyev had been six steps ahead of him. He was leading Juno around like a dog and Juno knew it. He felt like he was watching a noose tightening around his throat, and he was helpless to stop it.

So no, Juno didn’t trust this. He didn’t trust Peter Nureyev, he didn’t trust this place, and he certainly didn’t trust himself. But Rita was still looking into his eyes. She had that look she got whenever he’d been monologuing for too long.

He coughed. “Yeah, fine. I guess we can stay until you get… whatever it is you wanted.”

She almost knocked him over with a hug. “Mistah Steel that’s great! You’re gonna have the poofiest dress I can find, I  _ swear.  _ And you can fill it with so many snacks. OOH!” She dislodged herself from Juno and tottered towards the door. “That reminds me Mistah Steel, I gotta go find someone to talk to about doing your makeup!" 

This was going to be a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RITA IS FINALLY HERE. AFTER LIKE. 17,000 WORDS.  
This chapter was hard to write but I think i'm happy with it now. I can honestly say i've never written for a character like Rita before. She's one of a kind.
> 
> And no, no plot for any of you because i'm a cruel and uncaring god who just wants Juno to talk about his feelings.
> 
> I'm... pretty sure I updated on time? God, who can remember. Either way. Next installment. Behold. Tell me what you think of it.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated.


	13. Rita's Super Magic Makeover Power Hour (with Guest stars Juno and Peter)

To his surprise, this hadn’t been a complete disaster. The dress Buddy had handed him was ostentatious, sure. Big and gold and just like Rita had said: the poofiest that she could find. But it had fit him, really, really well. He would almost go so far as to say he looked nice. The gold suited his dark skin, and accentuated his scars so that they looked more like shining accessories than a side effect of growing up in Hyperion’s worst city under the care of an abusive mother.

Buddy had done his hair. He was in need of a haircut, but she had managed to style his curls so it looked elegant instead of mangy. With her touch, even his stubble made him look less like an overworked alcoholic and more like a rugged action hero.

Rita had handled his makeup, under Buddy’s supervision. She had done his makeup dozens of times over their years together, normally for dates she had tried to set him up on. They had never gone well, but that had less to do with the makeup and more with his questionable personality. (“Unique” was the word most people used for him, if they hadn’t tried to kill him with a salad fork by the end of the night.) 

This was more elaborate than anything she had done for him before, but her years of experimentation were paying off. He looked more dramatic than he would choose for himself, but Buddy assured him that at a party like this, his look would be understated. 

Juno was almost enjoying himself as Rita babbled and Buddy tried to drag the conversation back around to the plan. 

Almost, that is, until Nureyev came in.

Buddy didn’t notice him at first. “Jet will be working in the courtyard, monitoring who goes in and out. Vespa will be in the kitchens, of course, but she’s available as needed in case a fight breaks out. She’ll be keeping an eye on the staff entrances in case anyone tries to make a move. I will be making rounds throughout the palace and party, and should pass your position every thirty minutes. If you have any information to pass along, you’ll need to do it then. The King-”

“-Will be monitoring the party from my raised throne. I am to sit and observe, and to interact with no one unless I am certain that there is a threat.” Nureyev finished. “I take it things are going well with our dear detective?” 

With one last swipe of her brush, Rita shuffled to the side so that Nureyev could get a good look at Juno. “Wha’d’ya think?”

Nureyev opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. For several seconds, he didn’t move at all, his eyes fixed on Juno. Juno almost asked him if something was wrong, but then he snapped back to himself. 

No, not himself. Nureyev was wearing a bland smile and kept his eyes very carefully on Juno’s. It was nothing like the fox’s smile and hungry eyes which ate up every detail in a room that Juno had come to know. Nureyev was wearing a mask again, and it was pretty clear why: he didn’t want to tell them how bad Juno looked.

Juno fought the urge to hunch in on himself. Of course someone like Nureyev wouldn’t be impressed by him. Still, it hurt a little that even Rita and Buddy combined couldn’t transform Juno into something presentable. He’d always known he wouldn’t be winning any beauty contests, but people had always said that Ben was a handsome young man. What could be so wrong with him that it trumped the genetics of an identical twin? His scars? His age? 

A wave of anger drowned out his self-consciousness. Why should Nureyev’s opinion matter to him? It wasn’t like he’d ever put much effort into his appearance before, aside from a few phases in high school. Was he really going to let himself care that much about anyone else’s opinion? His mind drifted back to the way Nureyev had looked at him in Oldtown, right before they had kissed. 

No, this had nothing to do with the king. It was probably just nerves before the gala. He needed to make sure that his cover story wouldn’t be blown because everyone could see that he wasn’t nobility. 

Nureyev looked incredible, of course. He’d somehow contoured his face to look more dramatic and imposing, which shouldn’t have drawn Juno’s interest as much as it did. Like his dress from a few days ago, he was wearing silver, except now it was an elaborate, military styled suit that helped to broaden his slender figure. Whereas Buddy had demanded that Juno shave evenly, Nureyev had let his stubble grow out. It obscured his features, while adding a severity to his face that suggested he was not a man to be crossed lightly. There was always an implicit danger to him, but tonight he wasn’t a knife’s edge like Rex Glass, or a sheathed sword like the Peter Nureyev that Juno had only ever seen in private. Tonight he looked like a war hammer coming down from above.

Juno realized he’d been staring for a while without saying anything. Was that why Nureyev had been staring at him? Was he waiting for Juno to say something first? 

Juno tried for a smile to break the tension, but it flickered awkwardly on his face. “Well, if I’m not up to your standards, you’d better say something now. Rita’s still got another couple hours to redo my makeup before this party starts, right?” 

Nureyev blinked. “I- No, you look very-” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “You’ll do fine. Buddy and Rita did an excellent job, as I’d expect. I’ll see you at the gala.” He turned and left. 

Juno glanced at Rita and Buddy in confusion. Rita was trying not to giggle about something, and Buddy was pinching the bridge of her nose.

“...What?” 

“Oh, it’s nothin’ Mistah Steel.”

“Nothing of consequence, darling.”

“...Alrighty then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty short chapter, but that's only because for the next 3 or 4 chapters, i will have absolutely no chill and Juno will suffer. 
> 
> Not to say Juno isn't suffering right now.
> 
> Anyways i almost never write actual romance so I have no idea whether or not this is actually good. i'm posting it tho.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated as always.


	14. Juno and Peter have a blast

God, Juno had forgotten how much he hated rich people. He’d talked to dozens of nobles over the past few hours, and the only thing he’d really learned was that none of these people had any idea how the world worked. It was a really comforting thing to know about the people running the government. 

“Holding up alright?” Juno whirled and reached to his bodice where he was hiding a knife disguised as a broach, only to realize it was Buddy who had spoken.

“Don’t sneak up on a lady like that. I’m jumpy enough as it is.” 

She was dressed in a similar uniform to Nureyev’s, except hers was white and unadorned. Her hair had been pulled back, revealing her magical eye, as well as her raised eyebrows. “I take it that there’s been no word of an assassin yet then?” 

“No, but three different people wearing jewelry worth more than my entire neighborhood told me to my face that they were committing tax fraud under the king’s nose. ”

“Only three? Perhaps you haven’t been blending in as well as we’d hoped.”

“Have I mentioned that I really, really hate this place? There’s more criminals in this room than all of Hoosegow.”

Her lip quirked upwards. “Chin up, darling. If we’re lucky, a bloodthirsty killer might leap from the eaves at any moment to take down the king and throw the kingdom into instability and turmoil.”

“You know that’s not what I meant- Hang on.” A question bubbled to the surface of Juno’s mind. 

“Mm?”

It was a question he should have been asking since the beginning. After all, that’s normally what these things were about, right? He felt stupid for not thinking of it earlier. “If the king gets killed, who’s next in line? He doesn’t have children or siblings or- does the king have cousins?” 

“The King Regent took care of any threats to Peter’s reign. So no, no surviving heirs.”

Juno’s throat went dry. “How many people were ‘taken care of?’”

“Too many.” She was brusk as she said it, but Juno got the feeling that if Buddy didn’t spend time thinking about the dead, it was only because she couldn’t afford to spend any more of her misery on them. Juno had left enough corpses in his wake to know the feeling. 

_ Little monster. You think you’re better than me? The only difference between the two of us is that you got away with what you did.  _

He cleared his throat. “Right. Okay. So if there’s no one left, who gets the throne?”

Buddy didn’t answer for a moment. He was about to repeat the question when she said delicately, “If the king were to pass away, succession would fall to me.”

Juno paused. “That’s convenient.”

“I assure you, you and the king are the only people who think so. Despite my concerns, the king decided that he trusted me to lead the country more than any of the vultures at this party. He’s right not to pass the throne onto any of them, of course, but the nobility would never accept a commoner like myself as a leader. I wouldn’t be able to keep the throne for a year, and that’s working off of the assumption that I wouldn’t be killed as well. ”

She made a good point, and she didn’t exactly strike Juno as the poster child for power hungry. Still, he kept following that line of thinking. “Who gets the throne if you both die?”

“Jet. He may not be a leader, but he’s strong enough not to be influenced by others or swayed by money.”

“And after he dies?”

“Vespa.”

Juno blinked. “Really?”

“I told you that the king doesn’t trust many people. Besides, she does have noble lineage.”

“Wait, hang on. Vespa,  _ the woman who has threatened to stab me to death during every single conversation I’ve ever had with her _ , is nobility? Who is she related to? And why is she working in the kitchens then?”

“It’s hardly my story to tell, darling.”

“Alright,  _ fine. _ Who gets the throne after her then?”

For the briefest moment, she paused. “You know, I’m not sure that I recall. It probably passes to someone insignificant.”

He snorted. “They’d hardly be insignificant if they’re getting the throne to a country after killing four people.”

She tilted her head, accepting his point. “To be perfectly honest with you Juno, I doubt they’re even aware that they’re in line. These things are kept quiet for a reason.”

“I don’t know, I think if I were nobility, I’d like to know exactly how close I was to getting shackled with baby-sitting duty for an entire country, no matter how quiet it was supposed to be kept.” 

Buddy gave a sharp, bitter laugh before cutting herself off.

“What,” he said. She gave him a pointed, apologetic look. His stomach dropped. “ _ **No.** _ You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I told you that the king likes to keep his circle of confidants very small and very close.”

“ _ No.” _

She sighed. “I did warn him against it, of course. I didn’t know you when he suggested it to me, and it seemed like an awful lot of faith to put in a person he’d known for only a day. Still, as much as I’m loathe to admit it, he made the right choice. It was finalized yesterday. The king was planning to tell you tonight, if you both survived the gala, but I suppose this simplifies things, doesn’t it?”

“ _ Buddy,”  _ Juno said through clenched teeth. “ _ Tell me I am not in line for the god-damned throne. _ ” 

Somehow his hand had found its way back to the dagger hidden in his bodice. Her eyes followed the motion and her voice took on a warning tone. “You’re angry, and you have a right to be, but now is not the time to make a scene. The king will meet you in the war room, after the celebration ends-”

“Right. Of course.” He took a step away from her. “It sure would be  _ inconvenient _ if I went up to the king right now, during this fancy party where no one is allowed to talk to him. Almost as  _ inconvenient  _ as having my autonomy violated by  some high-and-mighty killer who hates himself so much that he'll believe a new name can keep everyone from seeing that he destroys  everything he touches .” 

Buddy recoiled like she’d been slapped. People were looking at them now. He shoved through the crowd to get away from her. She called after him, but he kept moving. He collided with an elderly woman in front of him, who turned to glare at him with a stare that made his stomach churn. Something about her face was… wrong. Before he could apologize, she melted away into the crowd, as if she’d never been there at all. Shaking of the chill in his spine, his eyes landed on the raised dais where Peter Nureyev was seated, and he cut a path towards it. 

As Juno approached, fire in his eyes and fists clenched, the guards tightened their grip on their spears. With a wave from Nureyev, they stood aside. 

Juno snarled. “We need to talk. _ Now.” _

“Lower your voice,” Nureyev murmured. “You’ve already drawn enough attention to yourself by charging up here. I saw you speaking with Buddy so I take it our assassin has arrived. Where are they? I haven’t seen anyone suspicious from here.”

“ _ You put me in line for the god-damn throne without asking me,”  _ Juno hissed.

Nureyev’s face went completely blank, and Juno was starting to get  _ really _ sick of all of these facades that the king kept pulling out whenever they had a problem. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private.”

“What happened to not doing anything that would draw unnecessary attention?” Juno knew he was only looking for a fight, but he was too angry to care.

“I will be able to waive away our absence far easier than I could waive away an unknown noble shouting the king down at his own party. You’re the only person to risk approaching me tonight, or were you too busy gossiping with my general to notice? As it is, for me to permit you to speak to me like this, they’ll most likely assume that you’re my mistress.” Juno stepped back like he’d been slapped and Nureyev’s eyes flashed. “ _ My god, you’re a delicate little thing. _ ” Juno had never heard him this angry. 

It was almost enough to make Juno regret approaching him. 

Almost. The king hadn’t ordered his guards to execute Juno yet, which meant he could still push his luck a little bit further tonight. 

Nureyev smoothed his face over again and continued. “You’ve already made your opinion of me quite clear. I’m in no way violating our  _ agreement _ : this isn’t my attempt to threaten your modesty. However, even  _ you _ cannot expect me to control the thoughts and gossip of my entire court _ , Madame Dauphin _ . Now if you insist on having this discussion, at the most inconvenient possible moment, then we should take our leave.” 

Nureyev stood with a nonchalant grace that made Juno’s blood boil, and stepped lightly off the dais. The crowd parted for him, breaking into hurried whispers as Juno followed sulkily.

_ This _ was exactly why Juno hated royalty and nobility and all of it. Beneath the fancy dresses and the drama and the glitz and glamour; it was all one big show to tell you that you didn’t belong. Juno had been lied to. Again. And worst of all, he should have expected it. 

He’d known something like this was coming. His mother had drilled it into his head: Royalty only have your back until they need somewhere to put their knives. And yet Juno was the one who had to put up with being dragged after Nureyev like a misbehaving puppy.

Nureyev’s mistress. That’s what they would be calling him. What they were probably already calling him between cupped hands and cupped ears. The thought made his skin crawl. 

In the streets of Oldtown, when he wore clothes with bloodstains that wouldn’t come out and snarled at anyone who looked at him for too long, at least he was still a person. He was a wreck, but still someone who deserved basic human decency. Juno had the sick feeling that these nobles didn’t feel the same.

He grit his teeth and ducked his head, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. Someone on his right giggled loudly.

Before Juno could do something truly stupid, like drawing his knife and flinging himself at the next noble he saw, the area of the ballroom they just came from exploded.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah the next six chapters are gonna be really stressful for just about everyone. 
> 
> You're fave is problematic: Peter Nureyev.
> 
> I've been waiting to publish this chapter for so long. It's been sitting in a google doc for months, waiting for my update schedule. 
> 
> The next chapter of my other fic is coming, but i've been surprisingly busy during my corona-cation. Also, I've developed a cough. Hope that doesn't mean anything.
> 
> Comment, Kudos, Bookmark or whatever. Just validate me.


	15. Feelings time!!!

Without thinking, Juno threw himself onto Nureyev, pulling them both to the ground. Waves of heat from the explosion rolled over him, but he didn’t move. He could feel Nureyev’s heart hammering in his chest, and hear the screams of nobles around him. He dug his fingers into the king’s coat, only to be ripped upwards, seconds later.

Jet threw him over his shoulder with one arm and grabbed Nureyev with the other. “We have to move,” was all he said before walking quickly and easily out the door, gently but forcefully pushing aside anyone who got in his way. Over Jet’s shoulder, Juno saw Buddy standing on a table with her sword drawn, shouting orders to the guards flooding into the room, and the guests flooding out. He watched Vespa, knives glinting in the firelight, as she ran into the blaze. 

Jet found an empty hallway, opened the door to a supply closet, and set them roughly inside. “I am going back to assist the wounded and search for survivors. If someone other than Buddy, Vespa, or myself opens this door, kill them.”

“Hey what happened to-” Jet slammed the door in his face. “-my ‘No Murdering’ rule.” He got to his feet with a sigh and offered a hand to help the king to his feet. “Looks like we’re gonna be in here for a while.”

After some hesitation, Nureyev took it. His eyes were distant and he spoke haltingly. “It seems I owe you my life once again. Thank you, Juno.”

He shrugged. “I hardly saved your life. We were far enough away that the blast barely singed us. The only reason I tackled you was because I thought there might be follow up attacks.”

“I was referring to when you led me away from my throne. ”

Juno leaned back against a shelf, hunching his shoulders. “Honestly, I can’t take credit for that one either. I didn’t know that the throne was rigged to explode like that. I was just mad. I’m still mad, if you’re wondering.”

Nureyev smiled at that, tired and sharp and genuine. “You always are. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.” He hesitated, as if waiting for Juno to snap at him. Juno didn’t. Nureyev didn’t seem to know what to do with the silence. “I should apologize for my anger earlier. I was being… shortsighted.”

Juno had too many complicated emotions to try and figure out whether he should accept Nureyev’s apology. Instead he said, “Why’d you put me in line for succession?”

Nureyev closed his eyes. Maybe he would have preferred that Juno snap at him for flirting. At least then they would be on familiar ground. “I’m not asking you to do the job, Juno. I assure you, I’m far too busy to die.”

“That’s not the answer to my question, Nureyev.”

Nureyev opened his mouth, then closed it again. He chuckled weakly. “I had answers for this. Dozens. And now here we are, and I have no idea which one you want to hear.”

“How about the truth?”

Nureyev shot him a look. “You’re a detective, Juno. You know as well as I do that there’s more than one.”

Juno looked down, feeling sick. “Unbelievable. I told you.  _ I told you _ that if I heard anything I didn’t like then I would walk. And you still found a way to tie me to this. I knew I couldn’t trust you. I knew it. And I let myself get duped anyways. The same old gullible Juno Steel.” Maybe Min Kanagawa was right. Maybe he was just destined to be everyone else’s puppet until someone finally knocked him off.

“Juno-” Concern turned to horror on the king’s face. “You think I did this because of you. To trap you.” 

“Uh, yeah. Wouldn’t exactly be the first time,  _ Rex _ .”

Nureyev winced, then visibly pulled himself together. “I apologize, detective, and take full responsibility for the pain my decisions have caused you... Again.” He paused, clearly choosing his words with delicacy. “I didn’t realize that you would find it so intolerable. It was never my intention to cause you distress or take any course of action that would jeopardize our… partnership. If anything, I believed I was extending an olive branch.”

Juno took a step towards him. “An olive branch? You call shackling me with the goddamn throne an  _ olive branch? _ ”

“I wanted you to see that I trusted you. And, well, it’s been some time since I’ve been around anyone who hasn’t tried bowing and scraping at my feet for a sliver of my power. What better way to show you that I didn’t want to hurt you than to let you benefit from my death.” The barest hint of a smile made its way onto the kings face. “Evidently, I forgot who I was dealing with.”

Juno felt some of his anger melt away, but wariness remained. “So does that mean that you’ll remove me from succession?”

“If… that’s what you want…”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘ _ but _ ’ coming.”

“No ‘ _ but’ _ . There’s no secret condition you have to meet, Juno. If you feel that strongly about it, I suppose I can talk about having you removed from the chain of succession tomorrow.”

“...But…”

Nureyev ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back into shape. “But I won’t pretend that I don’t have my reasons for adding you in the first place.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that. Then you keep not actually giving me any of your reasons.”

“I don’t think you would agree with most of them.”

“I don’t agree with most things you do, and I’m still here somehow, right?”

“Very well then.” Nureyev nodded, collecting his thoughts. “For one, who could I ask besides you?”

“...What?” 

“Who else would I trust to take over after I’m assassinated? I’ve spent the last twenty years of my life trying to drag this country to its feet. I’ve sacrificed more than you could know to keep my people safe. I have no heirs, no legitimate family, and only a handful of true friends. If the throne passed into the hands of any of the nobility, everything I’ve fought against would come crashing in. Do you have the political education and leadership experience that the job demands? No. Would you be accepted amongst the vultures of that ballroom? It’s unlikely. And yet, you care more about helping people than everyone else in that ballroom put together.”

“Sure, but am I really the best person for the job? Really? Morals don’t really mean much without leadership ability or eloquence or a face like yours.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You were a city guard for many years. I’m sure you picked up some leadership ability along the line. And while you may not have the most agreeable personality-” Juno snorted. “-you have a gift for cutting directly to the heart of an issue. Much like you did back in the ballroom. Or back in your office in Oldtown. You don’t let people get away with their bad behavior. And as for ‘a face like mine’...” Nureyev paused and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Well, I doubt you have anything to worry about in that regard.” 

“Agree to disagree, Nureyev.” They fell into a comfortable silence. “So, is that it?”

“Pardon?” 

“You want me in the succession because you don’t trust anyone else.”

“That, and the fact that you make it more unlikely for succession to be a motive in my death. Anyone who wants even the smallest chance of arguing for the throne would now have to kill five people instead of four.”

“Gee, that’s fun. I’m kinda glad that wasn’t your opening argument.”

“You wanted to hear all of my reasons, detective. And there is a bright side to this whole situation.”

“It’d have to be a hell of a bright side to make up for the rest of today.”

“Well, with the fiasco in the ballroom a few minutes ago, no one will think that you’re my mistress. It makes much more sense for you to be a spy in my employ.”

“You might be giving them too much credit. I spent hours talking to those people, and I didn’t hear one juicy rumor with an ounce of truth all night.”

“In that case, I suspect they’ll assume you’re a spy, my mistress, and the one who orchestrated the blast, all at the same time. Not that you’ll have to worry about any of that. You’ve made it clear that you want nothing more than to leave, and after everything I can’t even blame you.”

“Yeah, well…” Juno leaned back against the wall and studied Nureyev. The king politely studied the floor. “I’m adding a new rule,” he said finally.

Nureyev looked up at him sharply. “You’re staying?”

“I- are you going to hear me out or what?”

“Of course. I’ll agree to whatever you need me to if it allows me to make up for my oversight.” He looked so earnest that Juno almost told him to forget the whole ordeal. 

“Nureyev…”

“Yes?”

“Why did you kill Mag?” 

Nureyev took a sharp breath and clenched his fists. He closed his eyes and visibly forced himself to relax. “I’m not entirely sure how that’s relevant, Juno.”

“That’s my new condition. I get to know the answers that will help me do my job. That includes the line of succession, and it includes you.” Juno was getting tired of playing games. This job had thrown him for a loop again and again. Every time he’d peeled back a layer of Peter Nureyev, he was met with a new one, each more frustrating than the last. It was in his nature to look for answers, but he couldn’t forge ahead on this case while looking over his shoulder at the people he was working with. 

“I’ll repeat my earlier statement Juno, that I don’t understand how an unfortunate incident twenty years in the past has anything to do with me now.” They both knew that was a lie, Juno could see it in his eyes. 

“Look, you want me to trust you? That’s what it’s gonna take. I need to know what I’m dealing with, or I walk and leave you to figure out this mess on your own.”

Juno watched as the king ran through the calculations in his head. Finally, haltingly, he nodded. “Very well, Juno. If that’s what it takes. I’ve already given you the truth of my names. I may as well give you this final piece of myself. Before I do, however, I’ll need to speak with Vespa. This is as much her story as it is mine.”

“Wait- Vespa is wrapped up in this?”

Nureyev opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the door opened. Knives had appeared in their hands before the doorknob had finished turning, but it was only Buddy on the other side.

Her hair was in disarray, revealing glimpses of her inhuman eye. Her uniform wasn’t much better, covered in burns and rubble. Despite everything, her expression was civil, as if she was about to comment on the weather. “Dearest ones, I do think it would be in your best interest to come with me, and quickly. Some new developments have arisen in the case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it been almost a month since i've posted? yes.  
Am i sorry? also yes. god im so so sorry. I know it was a cliffhanger last chapter I'm sorry
> 
> But the important thing is that I'm updating now so all is probably forgiven 
> 
> Comment, kudos, hand over your wallets.
> 
> I stayed up till 4 am last night writing so if this is incomprehensible then send your complaints to god's P.O box cause the devil and I aren't listening


	16. Back to business then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO I FORGOT TO SAY LAST TIME BUT HEY MY FIC GOT ART!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> SHOUTOUT TO AESPHANTASMAL FOR BEING THE COOLEST GUY IN THE WORLD AND DRAWING THE BALLROOM SCENE!!!!!!!
> 
> GO LOOK AT IT!!!!
> 
> https://captain-aurinko.tumblr.com/post/614066336118849536/aesphantasmal-gothvespa-aesphantasmal

Juno had to run to keep up with the long-legged king and his longer-legged general.

“Is the fire under control?” Nureyev asked her as Juno trailed behind them.

“It was still smoldering when I left, but there’s no risk of it doing any more damage. I’m afraid that we’ll need a new throne, however.”

“I never was fond of it anyways. And the guests?”

“They’re all in their rooms for now. We’re planning to question everyone tomorrow about what they saw.” 

They arrived at the war room. Vespa was leaning back on a chair, picking her teeth with a knife while Jet stood silently behind her. Rita was asleep at the table, with Jet’s massive jacket spread over her like a blanket. Buddy barred the doors behind them and said brightly. “Now then, down to business. The first matter of course, is that the entirety of the kingdom’s nobility just witnessed an attempt on the king’s life, and now we have to do damage control, both literally and figuratively.”

“Wait, hang on,” Juno said. “I thought we wanted someone to try and attack the king.”

Vespa stabbed her knife into the table and leaned forwards. “ _ We _ didn’t. You, maybe. After all, you stand to benefit now, don’t you?”

“Are you serious? Is this about the succession thing? Did everyone know about this but me? I didn’t even want it in the first place. Hell, I had no idea the attacks were happening until you kidnapped me from my apartment.”

“Maybe that’s just what you want us to believe,” She snarled. “Do you really expect me to believe that you just showed up out of nowhere and wrapped the king around your little finger just like that?”

“I-he’s not-”

“Vespa,” Buddy chided. “We’ve talked about this.” Vespa scowled and yanked the knife out of the desk. Buddy turned to Juno. “As for your original question, we had multiple plans. Tonight was a gamble. While the assassin has never attacked so publicly before, security was bound to be lax enough to present them an opportunity. We were prepared for nothing to happen, we were prepared for the king to be attacked after the party, and we were prepared for him to be attacked with hundreds of witnesses. There was hope that we would be able to apprehend the assassin tonight, but that clearly failed. So, now we need to figure out how to tell the hundreds of witnesses that nothing is wrong, despite the evidence of their own eyes. Does that answer your question, darling?”

Juno opened his mouth to answer, but Jet spoke first. “This threat to the king’s life will also raise questions about the line of succession. No matter how quietly it is meant to be kept, it will become known that there are only four people in line after the king.”

“Three,” Nureyev said. Buddy raised an eyebrow and Vespa’s mistrustful eyes darted to Juno. 

Juno groaned, questioned all of the choices he’d made that brought him here, and muttered “Four.” Now everyone’s eyes were on him, and Buddy had raised her other eyebrow.

“You’re sure?” Nureyev asked him, and the concern in his eyes made Juno want to defenestrate himself. 

Juno tried for a nonchalant shrug, which didn’t work very well with his shoulders hunched self-consciously. “Yeah, well. I’m in this deep, and it’s starting to look like the only way out is forwards so... In for one cred, in for a fortune, am I right?” Buddy smiled, Jet nodded in approval, Vespa sat back in her chair, Rita twitched in her sleep, and Nureyev looked at him, too surprised to put on a mask, face full of something that Juno was too scared to name. He coughed. “So how are we supposed to spin this, anyways?”

Mercifully, Buddy took over. “Well, we can no longer avoid the fact that the king’s life is being threatened. Our best hope is to move fast enough that this doesn’t escalate, and find the would-be-killer quickly. We can deal with the aftermath afterwards.”

The king sighed. “Well, that would be most effective, but unless we have any new suspects, it’s unlikely that-”

“We do,” Jet interrupted. “While you were conversing with Juno during the party, Buddy spotted a man leaving through a side door moments before the blast. Through her description, he was identified as Brock Engstrom.”

Juno felt the room darken at the mention of Engstrom’s name. “Engstrom, like the guy who owns the jewel mines?”

“Please,” Nureyev scoffed. “Those mines haven’t produced so much as an agate in generations. The only thing their family is known for nowadays is drinking and gambling away their old fortune at casinos like the Oasis. They’ve married into just enough powerful families to stay relevant, and only ever manage to make an appearance when it’s most inconvenient.”

“Do you think he would want you dead?”

“I doubt it, but Engstrom wouldn’t have left the party if there was still wine in the cellars. He knows something he shouldn’t.”

Vespa pulled out her daggers. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I say we find him and get him to tell us exactly why he was leaving early.”

Buddy took the knives from her wife and gave her a fond smile. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, darling, I think that it would be a matter best saved for tomorrow, don’t you? There’s been enough excitement today, and the last thing the visiting nobility need is to see the king disappearing to the city’s disreputable underbelly in the night.” 

Vespa growled. 

The king sighed. “I’ll issue a statement tomorrow to the nobility tomorrow. After that, I’ll trust you all to keep the peace while Juno and I meet with Engstrom. This is something I would prefer to deal with personally.”

Juno’s head snapped up. “Wait, hang on. Why do I have to meet with Engstrom too? I don’t even know the guy!”

“Exactly. The Engstroms, aside from dealing in gambling and questionably-procured diamonds, are brokers of information. He would know too much about any other member of my court; you are an enigma, Juno Steel, and we can use that to our advantage.”

“Why isn’t Rita going?” 

Nureyev ignored him. Juno made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh, and left to change out of his charred ball gown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first of all, you have no idea how long I spent trying to figure out what the junoverse equivelant of the phrase "in for a penny, in for a pound" would be since neither pennies nor pounds exist. 
> 
> Secondly, Peter can only show vulnerability for .2 seconds before going back to being stupid and leaving you to wonder if he was ever vulnerable in the first place.
> 
> also next chapter is literally my favorite thing that i've written for this entire fic and im so hyped to get around to posting it. 
> 
> and finally COMMENT so that i can REPLY SAYING I LOVE YOU and give me kudos and bookmark and all that good stuff


	17. Obligatory Dahlia Rose Cameo

Juno slouched in his seat as the carriage rattled over the cobblestones. He shifted uncomfortably in his rose-tailored suit. Across from him, the king sat primly.

And it was  _ the king _ that was next to him. Not one of a dozen half-baked aliases. Nureyev had said that Engstrom would recognize him, so a fake name would be useless. It was Juno who needed one: something interesting enough to catch Engstrom’s attention and impossible to look too closely into. 

Thus, Dahlia Rose, husband of the notorious thief Duke Rose, was born. Since Duke Rose was one of Nureyev’s old aliases, there was no way Engstrom could confirm it. Plus, Duke Rose had been rumored to work closely with the king for years. It was the perfect cover story, or at least, that’s what Buddy had tried to tell Juno to get him to put on the flowery, embroidered suit. Juno would have fought it more, if he’d been given the chance, but their timetable was tight. Apparently, Nureyev was learning that the best way to get Juno to do what he wanted was to not give him time to argue. That thought didn’t scare him as much as it would have a few days ago, but there was something uncomfortable in it nonetheless.

Jet stopped the dark green, unmarked carriage they were riding in, and opened the door for them to step out. “I will wait for you here,” was all he said as they exited. Nureyev didn’t give him a backwards glance. Juno realized that it was probably to protect Jet from the interest of the nobility. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know how much of the king’s favor he truly held. Juno thought back to the way that Nureyev had ignored him when he’d first come to the castle, and it finally clicked that Nureyev had been trying to protect him then too. It made him feel a little stupid for not realizing earlier. 

No one gave them a second look as they entered. Most of the patrons weren’t quite wealthy enough to have met the king, and the others wrote him off after a glance. It took Juno a second to realize why. Nureyev’s posture had changed to seem remarkably casual and disinterested. The kingly aura from last night had completely dissipated, leaving a bored, albeit rich and handsome gambler who was eager to get rid of a week’s earnings. Juno watched as he charmed a waitress, and she pointed them towards a back room. He extended his elbow to Juno. “Come along, Dahlia. Mr. Engstrom is waiting for us.”

Brock Engstrom stood as they entered. He didn’t look like a man who had spent his life gambling and drinking away a decades old fortune. He looked like a banker, which was already a terrible sign. Never trust a business person in Hyperion. Behind him stood a towering woman in a long, slinky dress. She was smoking a cigarette out of one of those long fancy holders. 

“Your Majesty! I cannot begin to describe what a pleasure it is to have you visit our humble establishment,” Engstrom rumbled. “I do hope that traffic was alright. Allow me to introduce you to my bodyguard, Valencia.” The woman in the slinky dress gave a low bow. She didn’t look like a bodyguard. Juno took that as an even worse sign. Engstrom turned to Juno. “And you must be Dahlia. Congratulations on your recent marriage. I’ve never met your husband in person, but I’m aware of his work. Now then, what can I do for the two of you?”

“Well, you can start by telling us what you were doing at the party last night,” Juno answered. 

Engstrom laughed. “Bold words, Mister Rose. Of course, I went to celebrate the anniversary of the king taking the throne.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I now?” He said pleasantly. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s rude to insult your host in his own home?”

“This is a gambling hall, Engstrom. Not exactly the coziest place to live.”

“Perhaps not, but I have an agreement with the oasis, in honor of my long-standing patronage. As far as the stockholders are concerned, I’m one of the family.”

“Never put much stock on family.”

“That’s understandable. I doubt I would either if my mother was a killer.” Juno’s eyes widened at the same time that Nureyev’s narrowed. “Oh,” Engstrom said innocently. “Did I let something slip? How careless of me.”

Juno focused on keeping his breathing even as Nureyev said “I take it you have something you want, then.”

Engstrom nodded. “I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you if I didn’t. How do you think the Engstrom line has stayed relevant for so many years? With all due respect, your majesty, it might do you well to pay attention to your elders.”

“If you could get to the point-”

“Of course. Let me be clear then. I would like to see myself added to the line of succession.”

Nureyev’s face was stony. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“Why not?” If Engstrom could sense malice radiating off the king, he didn’t show it. “Surely, you don’t honestly expect any of your other candidates to have a snowball’s chance at holding the throne. A destitute rebel, a common horse-breeder, a disgraced assassin, and now this? Your mangy pet detective? He wasn’t even born in Hyperion, and you expect him to lead millions?” Nureyev’s eyes flickered towards Juno in curiosity. “And if being from the Kingdom of NorthStar wasn’t bad enough, there’s his criminal record to consider. Thirty-nine misdemeanors before the age of 18 is quite the resume, Mr. Steel. I’m particularly interested in the death of one Annie Wire, who went missing under the care of your friends. Tell me, detective, did she actually go missing, or do you know where her body is stashed?”

“Stop,” Juno growled.

“And that’s not considering the countless crimes you’ve committed since. Or the crimes committed by your family. Your brother Benzaiten had quite the record himself, though not half as extensive as yours. Ironic isn’t it? Your mother would have been doing a service to this country if she’d only known which twin-”

“I said stop!” Juno stepped forwards, not knowing what he planned to do, but he couldn’t breathe and the lights were too bright and he just needed Engstrom to _ stop talking _ . Nureyev put a hand on his elbow, holding Juno in place. 

“You’ve made your point, Engstrom,” he said with all the deceptive lightness of a knife’s edge. “My patience is wearing thin. If that’s all you had to say to us, then I believe we’ll be leaving shortly.” 

“Apologies,” Engstrom said, not looking the least bit apologetic. “My demonstration had two purposes. The first was to show you that a man like Juno Steel isn’t fit to run a bath, let alone a country. The second was to lead to my terms. A game that could benefit both of us. You have the power to put me in line for the throne, and only I know why I left the party early. We both have something the other wants. Thus, it seems, we are at an impasse. Tell me, your majesty. Are you familiar with the game… Rangian Street poker?”

“Of course.” 

“Then, you’d be willing to play for the information?”

Nureyev paused and Juno’s stomach dropped. His expression was so perfectly polite that Juno knew Nureyev was calculating something he didn’t want anyone to see. But surely Nureyev wasn’t stupid enough to actually play against Engstrom, was he? Was finding a lead on this mysterious assassin really worth putting a man like this in line for the throne? He made Juno’s skin crawl like it hadn’t in years, and the worst part was, Juno couldn’t disagree with anything he said. Juno would make a terrible ruler. Juno was a screwup and an expatriate and Sarah had made it pretty clear that if he’d been the one in the apartment that day-

Juno closed his eyes. “Your Highness,” He gritted out awkwardly. Nureyev turned towards him, surprised by the formality. “I’ve been in the P.I business long enough to know when I’m being led around like a dog on a leash. We’re not going to get what we came for. We should head back and see if Buddy’s found any new leads.”

Nureyev nodded. “It does seem unlikely that Engstrom will part willingly with that information. Are you alright Juno?”

Juno shook the last of Sarah Steel from his thoughts. He could still feel her long fingers digging into his shoulder, but he knew the feeling would fade after a few more minutes. “Fine, yeah. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to handle Valencia for me.”

“What?”

Almost faster than Juno’s eye could follow, Nureyev lunged at Engstrom. Somehow, he was now holding a dagger. He backed Engstrom up against the card table that sat set up behind them, holding the knife to his throat. Distantly, Juno realized that Engstrom had been planning for them to agree before they had even entered the room. He didn’t have time to bask in the realization, however, as Valencia brought her cigarette holder to her lips again and pointed it at Nureyev.

Juno body-slammed her and they tumbled to the ground. The barbed dart that Valencia had shot from her not-a-cigarette-holder hit the wall behind the king’s head. 

The king’s voice was as clean and cold as ice. “Now, this is a much more accurate representation of your bargaining position, Engstrom, wouldn’t you say? You act like this is a card game, and by doing so, you assume that you have cards to play. But I am not like the Outer Province newlyweds you con on the day to day. I am not a man you can win against. I am the king, and if I were to kill you here and now, there would be no one who could stop me, and no one who would mourn you. And when I had your bloated corpse gutted and fed to the feral dogs on the streets, there would be no fanfare, and no outrage.”

As Juno wrestled with Valencia, he kept one ear trained on their conversation. Nureyev had said they would do this case fairly. Nureyev had said they would do things by the book. No killing, no wrongful imprisonment. He tried to get a look at Nureyev’s face to see if he was telling the truth, and Valencia punched him so hard his ears rang. Right, he was in the middle of fighting for his life.

“Now,” Nureyev continued casually. “You have two options. Either you keep quiet so that I’m forced to kill you here and leave you to bleed out over your many, pointless decks of cards, or you tell me what you know and I won’t have you convicted of treason post-mortem.” 

Juno kicked Valencia in the stomach and pulled out a knife at the same time she did. They both spat out a glob of blood before swinging at each other.

“Fine.” Engstrom gritted against the knife at his throat, looking less confident for the first time. “Fine, it was Pereyra. Pilot Pereyra. They know something. They told me to stay away from the throne. I knew they had something planned but I never thought- I didn’t try to have you killed. I didn’t commit treason, but I have to look out for myself. For the oasis. Don’t let them know I told you. If you do, then don’t bother leaving me alive. I’d rather you kill me now than have my head sent back here in a shoebox.”

Juno grabbed a handful of Valencia’s hair and slammed her head into the wall as hard as he could. She whirled and bit him on the arm. 

Nureyev must have heard Juno cry out in pain because he pressed the knife a little harder against Engstrom’s throat. “The detective and I will be leaving now. Call off your bodyguard, would you?”

“Valencia!” Engstrom choked. She looked up from the headlock she’d put Juno in. He used the distraction to flip her over his shoulder. “Let him go. Now.” She staggered to her feet and stepped back as Juno wiped his bleeding lip on the back of his hand. They looked at each other with mutual distaste. Normally, Juno could at least respect how well she fought dirty, but today he was just too tired. It was clear she felt the same.

Nureyev, as flawless as ever, stepped back casually, his knife disappeared into one of his many coat pockets. He looked as if he actually  _ had  _ just finished a delightful game of cards with the elusive Brock Engstrom. Engstrom pulled out a handkerchief and began angrily dabbing away the sweat on his face. Valencia staggered over to the liquor cabinet, and Juno spat more blood on the floor, just to demonstrate his general mood. 

Needless to say, they attracted much more attention on their way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEHOLD   
honestly i had so much fun writing this chapter and i was so excited to post it that I did so more than a week early. 
> 
> Whatever.  
Update schedules aren't real.   
We all live in quarantine time now. 
> 
> anyways if ya'll thought i was deviating from the path of canon before..... *evil laugh*
> 
> Also, you know how i said this was my favorite chapter? well, it WAS my favorite chapter until i wrote my NEW favorite chapter 2 days ago. So. stay tuned. 
> 
> But if you liked this chapter, ya'll better COMMENT and give KUDOS and BOOKMARK and all that because let's be real, it's not like you have anything else to do during quarantine except take Uquizzes.


	18. Juno actually uses his detective powers to draw conclusions and figure stuff out. We STAN.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> literally exactly what the title says you guys. also homoerotic wound bandaging, as one does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been so so long for this one my dudes im really sorry. 
> 
> But don't worry. This isn't dead. 
> 
> It took me a long time to write one of the chapters because i really wanted to get it right, and also I had to host the wlw week event and write a tma au and a victorian au and family trips and quarantine happened and I'm going off to college soon. 
> 
> BUT IT'S NOT DONE.
> 
> Read the previous chapter to remind yourself what happened if you have to.

They sat in silence for a few minutes in the back of the carriage as it trundled through the streets. Without warning, Nureyev moved to Juno’s side of the carriage, reaching into his pockets.

“What-”

“Relax, I’m only going to see to your injuries.” Sure enough, the king procured a flask of alcohol and a roll of bandages from his pocket.

“Glad to see you’ve started preparing for when I get my ass handed to me.”

“You’re the one who’s made it a habit, not me. Besides, I was also preparing in case our assailants made another assassination attempt.” He poured the alcohol onto a handkerchief and started dabbing at the cuts on Juno’s knuckles. 

Juno did his best to keep his voice casual as the king pulled Juno’s hand closer. “Our assailants? You’re being a little generous there.”

“You’re in line for the throne now, Juno. You have as much right to be murdered as I do.”

“And who’s fault is that?” The king finished with Juno’s hand and moved to a knife slash on his bicep. 

“If you’re speaking about being in line for the throne, then I’d say we’re both at fault. If you’re asking who’s trying to murder us, I must admit that I’m still at a loss for answers.”

“What about this Pilot-whoever? You think they’re behind this?”

Nureyev pulled out a knife that was smaller than the one he’d used to threaten Engstrom and cut away Juno’s bloody sleeve. “It’s difficult to say. Pereyra is a noble only in name, more mobster than king. They certainly have the manpower and the reckless bravado to pull a stunt like this, but I doubt they have the skill or ambition. Pilot Pereyra is the person you go to when you want to make a statement, not the one you go to when you want a death shrouded in mystery. If they’re interested in power, it’s only the magical kind. In fact, last I heard, Pereyra was focused on some pointless lost fairy-tale city, hidden in the wilderness somewhere, which only the worthy can enter.”

“And Pereyra thinks they’re worthy, huh?”

“Evidently so.”

“So, why haven’t they been arrested yet? You said they’re a mobster, right? The Kanagawas might be in charge of Oldtown, but I didn’t think that’s how things were run here in New Kinshasa.”

Nureyev paused while wrapping bandages around Juno’s arm. Juno was close enough to smell his cologne, and was reminded of another time Nureyev had done this, in a different city, when they were both wearing different names. He did his best to focus on the pain, instead. “It’s not… how things are supposed to be. They take care of problems for those with enough money to pay. Every time I’ve tried to make a move against Pereyra, the nobility have reacted strongly against it, to the point where pursuing them would most likely have lead to a hundred more assassins after my head. I hoped that their base of power would weaken over time, but it seems that I've waited too long.”

“Why do you think that Pereyra warned Engstrom? Are they connected somehow? Business partners, exes, cousins, anything like that?”

“Well, they were related through marriage. I believe I mentioned that the Engstroms prefer to keep themselves relevant that way. There’s hardly a single noble family tree without a smattering of Engstroms throughout. Still, I assume it’s because Engstrom is a broker of information, and Pilot is a gangster. The two go together like sharks and remoras. One feeds the other and the other frees it from parasites.”

“There’s gotta be more than that though. Pilot told him to ‘Stay away from the throne.’ Informants are a cred a dozen. No matter how close they were, why would Pilot tell a secret to the man whose job it was to tell secrets? Unless…”

Nureyev had paused in bandaging Juno to watch him warily. “Juno, how much worse is our day about to get?”

“...Unless Pilot wasn’t talking about the actual throne. Maybe ‘throne’ is just another term for the monarchy. Maybe he already knew something, something that Pilot didn’t want you to know about.”

“Are you saying that Pilot isn’t the one we’re looking for?”

“Maybe… either way, I think it’s worth paying Engstrom another visit.” 

Nureyev nodded, and knocked on the window to get Jet’s attention. Before he could, however, a blast rocked the carriage. Juno whipped around, to see smoke rising from the Oasis in the distance.

“You think that was because he talked?” He glanced at Nureyev.

“That’s difficult to say. Either someone wanted to punish Engstrom for speaking to us… or someone expected us to be busy with a game of Rangian Street Poker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY DO I HAVE A STORY ABOUT THIS CHAPTER. So basically, I realized that up until this point juno actually hadn't been doing much detective detecting business. So i started writing a monologue about how things didn't line up. Except as juno kept talking, i started realizing my original plan for how this story was gonna go wasn't going to make sense, and Juno started picking it apart on the page right in front of me. Never before have i written a character who had so much agency that i felt like they were the one controlling ME. Several brainstorming sessions in the shower later, i had reworked the entire plot from here onwards. This chapter is very short but it was simultaneously the bane of my existence so. That was very cool. 
> 
> Anyways next chapter is gonna be super long and ya'll are gonna get some LORE tm. I'll try to post it soon, but apparently my new update schedule is. "whenever i very well please." In a perfect world, i would be getting it to you within 2 weeks because i make bad decisions and besides this story i am also currently writing a podcast which, ya know, has super concrete immovable deadlines that sideline this thing.
> 
> If you kudos, comment, bookmark, or even have simply stuck with the story this far, then really all i can do is thank you. 
> 
> I love ya'll stay safe.


	19. Listen I Just Have A Lot Of Feelings About Peter Nureyev Okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter reveals his tragic backstoryTM  
and also theres some foreshadowing stuff  
and also also Juno is there Definitely Not Having Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY 
> 
> READERS
> 
> GAY PEOPLE
> 
> FOUR ARMED LIZARDS
> 
> THIS CHAPTER IS OFFICIALLY DEDICATED TO SERATLANTISITE (who's art you might recognize from Thief of Hearts, the penumbra fan game)   
WHO DREW ME THIS INCREDIBLE LITTLE CODA FOR CHAPTER 10, WHICH WAS INCREDIBLY COOL AND NICE OF THEM AND I WILL GO BACK AND ADD SAID ART TO THIS FIC BECAUSE THEY ARE THE COOLEST. THE ART IS ALSO POSTED ON THEIR TUMBLR HERE.  
https://seratlantisite.tumblr.com/post/624551420184723456/a-little-coda-for-my-favourite-chapter-of-the-fic   
OKAY NOW ONTO THE ACTUAL FIC CHAPTER

Juno had argued that they should turn around and investigate the explosion, but Nureyev pointed out that the appearance of the king during the chaos wouldn’t help anyone. He promised to send Vespa or Jet back to find out what they could later, but for now, the best thing they could do was return to the palace and relay what they knew. 

Upon arriving, Nureyev was quickly swept off to do whatever kingly duties were required of him on a day to day basis, while Juno met with Buddy, Vespa, Jet, and Rita to explain everything they’d found out. The rest of the day passed in a blur of debates and questioning nobles about the party and helping wherever he could. By the time Juno fell into bed that night, he was exhausted. 

There came a knock on his door. He groaned as Buddy entered. “I thought we’d taken the last of the statements for today?”

“It’s not that, darling. Pete wants to speak with you.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t begin to guess,” Buddy said with a knowing look.

Juno groaned again as he stood up and pulled on his coat. Buddy led him down the halls and up flights of stairs that Juno was certain he’d never seen before. This wasn’t the way to Nureyev’s room. They climbed spiraling staircase after staircase, going higher and higher until they reached a simple wooden door. She gave him an expectant look and left.

Juno knocked.

“Come in,” Nureyev called from the other side, and Juno did. 

The room was bigger than he expected. They were clearly at the very top of one of the towers; the ceiling sloped up for another story before coming to a turret’s point. A four poster bed with a gauzy canopy stood against one wall, and a fireplace stood against another. It was clean, but clearly lived in, filled with trinkets on dressers and rugs that were more soft than decorative. There was no artificial lighting in this room, but there was a large open air balcony that let moonlight sweep in. Nureyev was standing on the balcony now, wearing a dressing gown over a warm set of pajamas. 

Juno moved to the balcony and stood next to him, careful not to look over the edge. Heights made him nervous. “Nice room.” 

“Thank you,” Nureyev turned to survey it. “It was mine, until recently. What with the assassination attempts, Vespa deemed it a security risk and so I was moved downstairs, to the previous king’s quarters. She’s right of course. I’m unfortunately predisposed to sleep deeply, and a room with a balcony would make it all the easier to kill me undetected.”

“The previous king. Do you mean your father or-”

“My father, though I never met him. Mag was never officially named king. He was perfectly content to rule from the shadows, using my family as an insurance policy.” 

“He’s not the one ruling anymore.”

Nureyev nodded, expressionless. He turned back to the balcony. “I spoke to Vespa.”

Juno straightened. “What did she find? Is Engstrom dead? Did anyone see who planted the bomb?”

“Engstrom is dead. So far no one’s seen who did it. However, there was one notable survivor. Engstrom’s bodyguard, Valencia, made it through with some injuries. I’ve asked for her to be transferred to the castle’s hospital. We can speak to her tomorrow morning, assuming she’s conscious by then.”

“Do you think she’ll be willing to talk to us?”

“I’m not sure, but… Juno. That wasn’t the only reason I spoke to Vespa.” Juno glanced at him, confused. Nureyev was still staring into the distance. “I needed to ask her permission to tell you about… about our past, and about me.”

“Oh.” Honestly, with everything that had happened, Juno had forgotten what Nureyev had promised to tell him. The condition that he’d made Nureyev swear too had been a spur of the moment decision, and now that he was looking the potential of Nureyev's honesty in the face, part of him wanted to take it back. “You don’t have to tell me right now if you don’t want to. It’s not really the best time, what with the apparent string of murders that follow wherever we go.”

“No, I won’t have you think I’m hiding things or manipulating you. Besides, who knows what chaos tomorrow will bring. You said this was what it would take for you to trust me, so… as unpleasant as I find it to dwell on the past, I’ll tell you.” He waited for Juno to give an objection. When there wasn’t one, he sighed. “I’m not quite sure how to tell this story, so you’ll have to forgive me if I stumble." 

Nureyev reached into his coat and pulled out a knife to fidget with. “My relationship with Vespa is… complicated. It’s taken us years to reach the trust we have now. We’ve been rivals, enemies, allies, and victims. She’s tried to kill me more than once, with varying degrees of success.”

Half a dozen jokes popped into Juno’s head. Things like  _ Gee, I thought what I had with her was special _ or  _ So is getting almost murdered just a thing with you? Not that I have room to judge...  _ or  _ Let me guess, you bonded over your love of throwing knives at people? _ Even Juno was smart enough to realize the situation was serious, so instead he asked “What changed?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe we got tired of hating each other. Maybe we were too stubborn to give up on each other. Maybe it was the inevitable given time.”

Juno recalled his conversation with Buddy before the ballroom bombing. “Buddy said she was nobility.”

Nureyev nodded. “She’s my cousin.” He must have noticed Juno’s surprise because he elaborated. “One of my aunts had an illegitimate child about a decade before I was born. She was sent to live with her father, some Rangian peasant, up until Mag found out about her. It was several years before I was to be born, but Mag had other schemes in mind. Most people say that Mag’s rule began once my parents died, but that wasn’t true. He was always there in the background, weaving his web of lies and misery. I like to think that my parents were unaware of his behaviour, but I have no way of knowing. He took Vespa in when she was about eight, and he used her existence both to blackmail my aunt and as a bid for the throne, should my parents ever die prematurely. 

“Under Mag’s care, Vespa chose her name and started living as a woman. Mag was very careful with her. She was raised away from courts, under his watchful eye. Instead of teaching her to rule, Mag taught her to survive, so that no one would be able to throw a wrench in his plans. He taught her medicine and first aid, how to hide and run and escape, and all manners of combat. Then, when she was twelve years old, I was born. Mag was made the godfather. I’m sure you know what happened next. My parents were killed and Mag became my regent until I was old enough to rule. Suddenly, Vespa was useless as an heir. But… after four years of intensive training, she had all the makings of an assassin.”

Juno risked a glance over the edge of the balcony and felt a wave of nausea pass over him from the dizzying height. “Well, that explains the knives at least- hang on. You use knives too. Do you know how to do all of the stuff that she does?”

“Yes and no. He couldn’t train a prince with the same level of secrecy as a Rangian street urchin, so my education was supplemented with more princely skills. Horseback-riding, letter writing, diplomacy, history, languages, literature, and so on. I was taught some skills openly. It was a noble exercise to teach the prince to fight with a broadsword or the basics of medicinal sciences. However there were other skills taught that… were not as apparent to the prying eyes of courtiers and the whispers of nobles.” Nureyev paused, clearly struggling to find the right words to get his meaning across. “Juno, most of what I’m telling you comes with the benefit of thirty years of reflection. I’ve looked over every memory of my childhood a hundred times with a fine-toothed comb, wondering if it was an innocent joy or another manipulation. Even now, I can’t say whether or not Mag truly loved me or grew to love me, or if he only ever saw me as an accomplice, no, a pawn in his great plan. I loved him like a father. Or at least, I think I did. It’s not as if I have a wealth of experience to draw from in that regard. Every time he told me he was proud of me for doing well in my studies, was he just saying it because it’s what I wanted to hear? Did other children pick fights with me because children are prone to quarrel, or did Mag need an excuse to teach me hand to hand combat? I suppose in the end, the most valuable thing I ever learned from Mag was that you can’t trust anything in New Kinshasa at face value.”

“Well, you trust Vespa. And Buddy and Jet.”  _ And me, _ he didn’t say.

“Buddy isn’t from here. I know what lies beyond Jet and Vespa’s face value.”

“And me?” The words slipped out against his will. 

Nureyev’s eyes slid over to him for the first time that night, glowing bright in the darkness. “You are neither from here, nor what you first appear to be, Juno Steel. I’ve yet to meet anyone equal.” 

Juno hoped that it was too dark for Nureyev to see his face. “What happened to Vespa? Where was she?” He said it a little too loudly, immediately ruining any hope of appearing casual. Nureyev’s teeth flashed briefly in the darkness. A fond smile, quickly smothered. It sure did make Juno feel some sort of emotion that he didn’t want to examine. 

“Vespa drifted in and out of my life during my early childhood. She would follow Mag like a shadow, and then disappear for days or weeks at a time. She was often injured, and I remember that occasionally caught my attention, but I never questioned it like I should have.” 

“You were a kid. You trusted him. It’s not your fault.” Juno’s voice didn’t sound convincing to his own ears. Some part of him felt sick as he said the words. It felt… uncomfortably familiar. 

Nureyev shook his head bitterly. “Years later, she told me about her assassination career. The political enemies she killed. The back room deals she’d sat through, guarding Mag. She was just as loyal to him as I was, even though he never showed her a fraction of the same kindness. I suppose in that sense, he never betrayed her. It was all just… more of the same. I asked her once, after everything, whether she hated me for the love I got.”

“Did she?”

“She spent the next hour complaining about me. Tore into me about everything from my fashion sense to my aliases to the way I ruled my kingdom.”

“Huh.”

“Indeed. But she didn’t bring up anything from my childhood. I think… it was her way of saying that she only held me responsible for the man I’d become, not the child I’d been.”

“Hell of a way to show it.”

“Well, the rest of us are hardly experts in communicating ourselves, so we can hardly criticize.”

Juno snorted. “I’m too tired to figure out whether or not that was pointed at me.”

“It wasn’t. You know, you’re awfully protective of your beauty sleep for someone who’s already so handsome. You really ought to give the rest of us a fighting chance.”

“At what, being handsome? Maybe we weren’t at the same party the other night but I’d say the guy on the throne held everyone’s attention pretty well.”

“Right up until the lady in gold came and swept him off to safety.”

Once again, Juno found himself running from the intensity of Nureyev's gaze. He cleared his throat. “What changed? When you were young, I mean.”

“I found out that Mag wasn’t who he’d said he was.”

“You mean-”

“No. Not when I- Not when he died. This was three years earlier, when I was thirteen.”

“The same year you met Jet.”

“Precisely, detective.” Nureyev sounded surprised.

Juno shrugged. “In my line of work, it pays to remember the details.”

“Well in my line of work, it pays not to give too many details. A trade secret of politics: the less you reveal, the less that can come back to bite you. ”

“Wait, I never paid attention in history class. Do you get paid at all? Or do you not have to pay anyone for anything since you’re the king. How does that work?”

It was getting too dark to see, but Juno could imagine the quirk of Nureyev's eyebrow and he leaned away in faux concern. “Oh, what’s this? Is this your bid for the throne? Has the prospect of being rich beyond your wildest dreams finally taken hold, driving you murderous extremes?”

“Wha- No. I just-” He realized that the king was laughing softly at him. “Forget it, alright? It’s not important. You were talking about when you realized Mag was dirty.”

“You make it sound like he was on the take, Juno. He’s not a corrupt guardsman. He led an entire country... if you could call what he did  _ ruling _ .”

“Just get back to the story?”

“Well, if I must. Vespa and Mag were in a meeting. Someone had displeased Mag, probably one of a hundred magistrates who couldn’t pay the taxes Mag raised. I didn’t recognize him and Vespa stopped remembering her victims’ faces after the first dozen." His tone soured. "Say what you will about murder, but it is a skill that gets easier over time. I wanted to talk to Mag about my studies that day, and so I went to his office. Instead of knocking like I was supposed to, I rushed inside, sure that he would want to see me more than he would want to talk to whatever ministers he was meeting with. He always made time for me. He always made me feel important.” Nureyev took a long slow breath. “I rushed inside just as Vespa slit the magistrate’s throat. He was the first person I ever saw die. The blood splattered across my shirt and pooled against my shoes. In all the death I’ve ever experienced, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a body bleed more before it finally stopped twitching. Vespa was an expert in her craft.”

The quiet around them grew oppressive. “What did you do?” Juno asked softly.

“What I always do when trouble arises. I disappeared. Ran as fast as I could, ignoring Mag shouting behind me. I’d never been so scared before. I was reckless enough to go out into the city. I’d never gone out without guards and an entourage before. Mag was never stupid enough to risk my safety. Within minutes I was lost. Within an hour I’d managed to bring myself to one of the city’s worse districts. I believe Jet told you about how I was attacked, and how he saved me. He took me to his farm, and once I was calm, I realized that I had to go back, against my better judgement. I snuck back inside, changed, and went to bed. In hindsight, it should have concerned me that the alarm hadn’t been raised. Mag couldn’t tell anyone I’d left without telling them why. The next day, he came to me with a story about how the man who died was a dangerous criminal who had been executed privately. I pretended to believe him. I have no idea if I really convinced him, but he left me alone. He was always a better actor than I was.”

“Better than you? What, was he a Rangian Chameleon-dog? I’ve literally seen you disguise yourself so well that your own nobles don’t recognize you in your own city.”

“Anyone can run a short con like that. He juggled dozens of long-cons for decades with people he saw every day. He kept me under his thumb for sixteen years.”

“Yeah, because he was a sociopathic monster. The reason you can’t brag about manipulating a child for sixteen years is because you’re a good person who doesn’t mess with kids’ heads for personal gain.” A silence hung in the air. The sky had gotten cloudy, and now it was so dark that Juno could barely see Peter’s silhouette. “Nureyev?”

“Yes, I’m here. Apologies, I just wasn’t expecting you to jump to my defense so passionately.” Juno opened his mouth to deflect. “-And there’s no need to deflect. I don’t mean anything by it. It just surprised me, that’s all.” Juno closed his mouth and Nureyev continued. “I- I learned a great deal over the next three years. I routinely snuck out to meet with Jet and learn about the political situation within the rest of the kingdom. I kept up my studies in the palace, but I started doing my own research on a variety of independent topics. It had become apparent that Mag had no intention to ever teach me to rule, lest I realize what he was doing to my people, so I searched for any books or people I could find that could teach me more about ruling. In particular, my education had been lacking in mathematics and economics. The more research I did, the more I realized that Mag was draining every penny he could from the common people in order to win more support and power from the nobility. I researched theory on law, and argued with drunkards in bars that were more persuasive about the state of the judicial system than a hundred lawyers that argued for death without understanding the meaning of the word. I read speeches by the most convincing kings in history, and found prostitutes and con artists on street corners that taught me more about acting and persuasion than any Kanagawa. I read foreign texts and talked to travelling merchants about different cultures that I would have never dreamed of.”

Juno gave an awkward laugh. “You’re making my Oldtown Public Education look like chump change.”

“Well, it’s not as if you’ve fared badly with it. I’m sure what you learned was much more useful than which table knife is only for squash-based desserts.”

“Please tell me you just made that up. That can’t exist.”

“Buddy would be disappointed. She spent so much time teaching you table manners.”

“Yeah, well all of that stuff got knocked out of my head by the names of all the noble families in attendance.”

“You didn’t remember Pilot Pereyra when Engstrom mentioned their name.”

“Well the names of the noble families got knocked loose by the proper way to curtsy.”

“Can you still curtsy? Or has that been replaced by the Brahmese Waltz?”

“Bet I’m better than you.”

“At the curtsy or the waltz?”

“Both.”

“Well, luckily the king doesn’t have to bow or curtsy to anyone, so I guess we’ll never know. Can you really waltz? I don’t remember Buddy teaching you.”

“Have a little faith in me. I’m only the guy you hired to save your life.”

“My apologies. I’m sure your waltzes are unparalleled."

The moment flickered as Juno paused, deciding whether or not he was willing to ruin the levity. He looked up at the sky. “I, uh, I learned it as a kid. My brother was a dancer.”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . Juno, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push-”

“It’s fine. Just- Can we get back to the story? We’re gonna be here all night at this rate, and I’ve got a bodyguard to interrogate tomorrow-”

“Of course. Well, I spent three years studying how to rule behind Mag’s back, but as I engaged in my own secret activities, I also studied his. I monitored Vespa’s comings and goings, and started placing them as coinciding with notable assassinations I heard about from travellers. A little less than a year before I took the throne, I noticed her patterns changing. She started leaving for longer periods, and coming back more tired and injured than I had ever seen. She wouldn’t even speak to anyone but Mag. Mag started getting irritable. He’d snap at people, and whenever anyone would talk to him, he would get this  _ look, _ like he was just waiting for everyone to stop talking so he could do something else. He had more and more private meetings with members of his spy network, Dark Matters, which during my rule I converted into the courier service.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with the couriers. Some of them can be real pieces of work.”

Nureyev didn’t seem to notice the interruption. “I admit, I may have become more sharp and irritable myself. I ceased visiting Jet and explored the city on my own, scouring it for information. I listened in as much as I could, but all they ever talked about was something called the Egg of Purus and how fast they could finish it. I might never have found out what it was- if not for Vespa. I- Juno, my reign is celebrated, but all I did was take one life. Vespa saved  _ millions _ , nearly at the cost of her own.”

“Nureyev-” Juno tried to interrupt, but the king didn't seem to know how to stop the words from flowing out. 

“I was sixteen years old, and Vespa was about twenty-eight. I was roaming through the city, mostly feeling sorry for myself, when I saw Vespa stumble towards me in the dark. I thought she was going to kill me, or worse, report me to Mag. If I had run then and there, perhaps Mag would still be in power. However, I hesitated for reasons I myself don't entirely understand, and Vespa collapsed to the ground. Upon examination, I discovered a deep wound in her stomach. There was no lost love between us. In my eyes, she was a cold, unfeeling killer. In her eyes, I was a pampered child. We’d orbited each other for nearly two decades, but we’d never truly collided. I carried her to the palace and snuck her to my room. She babbled her story as she faded in and out of consciousness. I layed her in my room and dressed her wound, partially at her instruction. 

_ “The egg _ , she said. _ They’re going to use the egg. You have to stop them, please.  _ I asked her what the egg was. After months of sticking my nose where it wasn’t wanted, I still hadn’t learned it’s purpose. She kept trying to get up as she rambled.  _ A bomb. It’s a bomb. Please, he’s going to kill them. I’m not a bad person. I’m not. They killed the inventor. They killed M’Tendere. You can’t let him use it. There’s something wrong. He’s going to use it on Northstar. He’s so afraid of Northstar.”  _

Juno couldn't have disguised the way he flinched, and he was glad that Nureyev couldn’t see him in the dark. 

“I hadn’t felt so afraid since I had first watched her kill someone. She warned me that he was leaving that night. I wanted to ignore her. She could die if her injuries weren’t properly treated, but she made it clear that if I didn’t find Mag, then she would haul herself up and find him herself, intestines inside her or not. Just to appease her, I ran down to the courtyard to check that Mag really wasn’t leaving. Foolish. Of course he was leaving. I saw him and asked-” Nureyev’s voice, which had been increasing in speed as he talked, died suddenly. “That’s strange,” he said weakly after a long moment. “I can’t seem to talk about what happened next. You would think that it would get easier after thirty years.”

In the darkness, Juno hesitantly reached for Nureyev’s hand on the balcony. He’d never been good at comforting others. That had been Rita’s job. Juno would deliver the news of a murderer to a grieving widow and Rita would be there to listen and offer tissues. It was one of the many reasons he was infinitely grateful for her. Rita usually touched their hands or shoulders to let them know she was listening. Hell, she’d done it for him more times than he could count. His rough fingers closed over Nureyev’s long, slender ones. Somehow, it felt different than with Rita, like a lifeline tethering them instead of a gentle comfort.

“Was the egg there?” He asked. 

“Yes it was. Vespa was correct. About everything. It was later that I got the full story out of her. She had gone with a few of Mag’s spies to retrieve the weapon from its designer, and heard about the plan for its true use. She decided then that she wouldn’t stand by as he hurt people, because even if Mag could justify any other death to her, there was no explanation for this. The assassinations she'd done had never done anything but further Mag’s need for the world to run how he saw fit. She fought and killed the spies, but one escaped with the egg and gutted her as a bonus. She dragged herself after him anyways.”

“Spite is a powerful motivation.”

“So is the desire to protect others.” Peter tightened his grip on Juno’s hand. “Mag, he- In the end, he was kind to me. He almost seemed- proud of me. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish he’d cursed me with his dying breath.”

“I’m sorry.”

“As am I.” Juno could almost feel the hundreds of things that Peter Nureyev was trying to articulate in that moment. The  _ I’m sorry’s _ and the  _ It should have been me’ _ s all trying to force themselves out of his throat.”

“How’d Vespa end up working in the kitchen?” Juno asked. 

Nureyev took a shuddering breath to calm himself. “Vespa took Mag’s death very poorly. She still won’t speak about most of her experience as an assassin, but I know she built a career around being afraid. She hated him, but he was just as much her father as he was mine. We both grieved, and I still regret that we did it separately. She wasn’t an assassin anymore. I wasn’t a spoiled child. We didn’t trust ourselves, let alone each other. For a few months, she picked up shifts in the castle infirmary, treating every noble who came in complaining that their stomachs hurt because they ate too much or that they had headaches from listening to their children talk. If she thought someone didn’t have a legitimate reason to be there, she would chase them out with a scalpel. She was incredibly popular amongst the healers, but much less so with her hypochondriac patients. After she was politely pushed out by the infirmary staff, I came to her with two propositions.”

“Yeah?”

“The first was that she joined my circle of trusted allies. I would have asked her sooner, but I didn’t know how to approach after so many years. I was fully prepared for her to reject my offer, and no one could have blamed her if she had. Of course she accepted. I don’t think I actually trusted her when I asked. I think I may just have needed to know who she was, underneath the anger and fear. The answer, as it turned out, is someone with more common sense than Buddy, Jet, and I put together. She knows how to examine an enemy for weaknesses and pick them apart. I have to fight to get any respect from her, which means she’s more than willing to tell me what I need to hear. Her intuition has steered me away from danger more times than I can count.”

“And what was the second proposition?”

“ I suggested that she take an open position in the kitchen.”

“How’d she react to that?”

“Oh, she threw a knife at my head. But after twenty years, she’s worked her way up to head chef, so I’d say that it all balanced out in the end.” Juno snorted, and Nureyev gripped his hand a little bit tighter. 

They stayed there, hands clasped in the dark, safe in an unbroken moment. Neither of them pulled away. Juno wanted to feel afraid. He wanted to feel the mistrust and exasperation that he had held onto like a security blanket since Rex Glass had first walked into his office. But instead, he felt something soft and warm unfurling in his chest. He wanted to be wary of the feeling, but in the dark, in this quiet moment, what was there to be wary of? He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Exactly what he’d been asking for since that first kiss in his dark office. He finally knew exactly who Peter Nureyev was, down to his core. So why didn’t that seem right? All of a sudden, “Who is Peter Nureyev?” didn’t seem like the right question to be asking.

The real question was: Who was Peter Nureyev to Juno Steel? Was he another in a long line of employers coming to him with a case to solve and a coin purse that was too heavy? Was he a king to be followed and respected but kept high on a pedestal? Was he a mysterious and seductive master of disguise looking for fun and intrigue that a cushy palace life couldn’t provide? Most importantly, which did Juno want him to be?

Juno’s thoughts were drawn back to the man he was standing with now, content in a silence that spoke volumes. He knew what the emotional part of him wanted. The small voice of vulnerability that he probably hadn’t really seen since he’d shoved his wedding dress in the back of his closet in Oldtown. He knew that he worked well with this man. The words they traded were like steps in a dance, always switching who was leading to end up in directions that neither of them had expected. He knew that he desperately wanted to see where their dance led next. Could he afford to listen to that part of himself? 

Juno had a feeling that there would be new music to face soon enough. But for now, in the soft space between them, it was quiet. How could he be afraid, hidden in the safety of the night? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first of all, I need to justify the fact that yes, I am a week past the date I said I would update. But you know what? Time isn't real. College is a week away. No gods no kings no genders Just peter nureyev being vulnerable while Juno tries to imagine what vulnerability must be like. 
> 
> You know when i said in the notes several chapters ago that I stayed up till four AM to write a chapter? Remember that? I got several commenters who were worried about me god bless. Anyways the chapter that I stayed up so late for is actually THIS CHAPTER. Wild, right? It's gone back and forth through heavy revisions but honestly at this point I'm pretty happy with it and I hope that Ya'll are too, especially since this is definitely one of my longer chapters. 
> 
> Anyways, good luck to anyone else who's going back to school!
> 
> As Always, Comment, Kudos, bookmark, and cry because Peter Nureyev is just so good? He's just so good and i love him.


	20. That's Right There's A New Reoccuring Character Because I've Lost Control Of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Time To Interrogate Valencia Ft. Rita
> 
> AKA 
> 
> Juno Regrets Many Many Things

As it turned out, a day of fist fighting, almost getting blown up, questioning and reassuring swooning nobility, and staying up late to have a deep, emotional conversation with someone he wasn’t sure of his feelings for did not give Juno a restful night of sleep. The next morning saw Juno tired and irritable, and Rita really wasn’t helping matters by shouting enthusiastically about all of the things she’d seen since they’d last been together to have a real conversation. Still, her presence gave him a little bit of stability that he clung to like a life preserver. He would never admit it to her, and he could barely admit it to himself, but he was grateful to have her with him as they went to interrogate Valencia.

She’d been secluded away in a guest room to keep their conversation private, and when Juno and Rita got there, they found Vespa sitting nearby, examining her wounds. Juno could still see his own handiwork on Valencia’s face, and if she hadn’t watched her boss explode in front of her less than 24 hours ago, he would have felt a little pride at her split lip and mottled black eye. Her leg was propped up on the bed, set in a cast. There were bandages wrapping her side, and he could see what looked like raw burns peeking out from underneath. 

Vespa and Valencia watched each other warily. Then, they turned and saw Juno. Now they were both watching  _ him  _ warily. That wasn’t a good sign. “Uh, hi,” He said. “How are your injuries?”

“She’ll live,” Vespa answered before Valencia could. “Broken leg and missing a few toes. Burns on her lower left side, but none severe enough to need skin grafts. There might be some light scarring. Hell of a shiner on her eye, Steel. The leg needs time and bed rest for now, but I’ll give her some cream for the burns and the shiner.” Juno blinked. Nureyev had told him that her specialization was in medicine as well as assassination, but this was the first time he’d seen her knowledge in action. 

Rita obviously felt similarly because her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Gee, Miss Vespa, you sure are smart. I don’t know nothin’ about food or fightin’ or fixin’ people. Well, that first one’s not true. I’m the best at food, except no one else seems to think so, but it ain’t like it’s my fault the boss thinks you can’t put dog food into people food. Some folks are so unadventurous-”

Without acknowledging anything Rita said, Vespa made her way towards the door. “I’m going to go find Buddy and the king and make sure that no one’s managed to kill them in the thirty minutes they’ve been left alone. If someone tries to kill you, her, or your secretary, I recommend screaming. Loudly.” 

Juno realized that this was the first time he’d seen her since before she’d given Nureyev permission to tell Juno about her history. “Wait- Vespa?” She stopped in the doorway and gave him that wary look again, like she was waiting for him to drive the knife in and she wasn’t going to flinch when it came. “Thanks. For trusting me.” 

She turned away, but not before Juno saw a flash of relief in her face. “I didn’t do it cause I trust you. I did it because I owe it to him. It’s as much his life as it was mine. What say do I have in who he tells?” 

“Well, sure, but still-”

“Am I supposed to understand what’s happening here? Because I don’t.” Valencia spoke for the first time, in a bored drawl that only Juno recognized as a detective with two decades of experience. Valencia was out of allies, in a place she didn’t recognize, and too injured to put up a fight with a man who’d half knocked her lights out only a day earlier. She was scared and angry, and the only way she knew to deal with that was to make everyone else angrier. Juno could relate. 

“Make him happy, Steel,” Vespa muttered. “He doesn’t take much for himself. I don’t know what it is about you, but...” She left the thought unfinished and closed the door behind her. 

Juno turned his attention to Valencia, who laughed. “So I guess this isn’t gonna be a fun chat, huh?”

“Depends,” Juno said. 

Rita piped up, immediately ruining Juno’s attempt at intimidation. “Oh yeah, I bet it depends on a lotta things. Like it would be really fun if we were all wearing clown noses! Or if we were all talking about our favorite flavors of ice cream! Or we all stood on our heads! Oh! Or-”

Valencia blinked. “Alright, I’m lost.”

“Yeah, she has that effect on people.”

“No, I mean- Is this a good-cop-bad-cop thing? It’s just- no offense- but neither of you are actually that intimidating.”

“This is a ‘tell us what Engstrom knew about Pilot Pereyra’ thing.” Juno said. 

Her eyes flashed. “This again? He already told you and your boyfriend what you wanted to know.”

Juno growled. “He is  **not** my-” 

He cut himself off at the sight of Valencia’s raised eyebrow. She smiled, smooth as butter as the gears turned in her head. “Hit a nerve, did I? Then… I don’t suppose you’re conversation with that doctor just now had anything to do with you and his majesty-”

“Shut it. We’re here for information, and you’re gonna tell us what we want to know if you want to get out of here without getting slapped with a treason charge.”

“So it  _ is _ good-cop-bad-cop.” She turned to Rita. “What about you, sweetheart? Got anything to say? Go on, convince me that he’s got an offer worth listening to.” Rita made a strangled sound that might have been her version of a giggle. 

“I am  _ right here _ !” Juno’s voice cracked, which only made Rita’s giggles worse. 

“Well,” she said between fits of laughter. “We ain’t tryin to hurt ya, if that’s what you’re worried about. Mistah Steel just wants to know if the guy that killed your boss is the same guy tryin’ to kill our boss.”

Valencia looked to Juno, surprised. “You think it’s Pilot, don’t you? That’s why you wanted to talk to Engstrom?”

“It’s one theory. Is there anything else that you could tell us about them?” 

“Well that depends on you. It’s not like I have anything left to lose. No job, no family, no way to go back to being a bodyguard until my injury heals, and facing whatever charges your boyfriend dreams up to punish me for hurting his main squeeze during our fight yesterday.” 

“I’m not his- We’re not- He wouldn’t-” Juno felt his face heat up as she rolled her eyes.

“Look, I don’t really care what you two are doing in your own time: canoodling or making friendship bracelets. I need to know what I’m getting out of this.” To his frustration, she looked over to Rita again. “You’re supposed to be the good cop, right? Well, what are you willing to give.” 

Through her giggles, Rita answered. “I ain’t a cop, Miss Valencia. Just the boss’s secretary. Mostly I take notes and do research for him while he runs around shootin people and fightin and stuff.”

“Your boss is a real piece of work, you know,” Valencia said without sparing a glance in Juno’s direction.

“He ain’t too bad once you get past the grumpiness and the shoutin. He likes helping people and that’s why we make such a good team. We’re the Steel and Rita detective agency!”

Juno interjected, trying to get the conversation back on track. “We’re not, actually-”

Valencia watched Rita with a lazy smile. “That hardly rolls off the tongue. Rita and Steel sounds much better.”

“That’s what I keep telling him! But every time I try to write my name on the sign on the door, he wipes it off!”

He frowned. “Wait, that was supposed to be your name? I thought you’d just smeared salmon paste on the windows.”

“I wrote my name in salmon paste! I wanted to give the sign some flair. What’s better for that than a full sensory experience?”

“Rita, the smell was actively driving customers away.”

“I don’t know, boss. If they didn’t like salmon paste, then I’m not sure we even wanted their cases.”

Valencia snorted. “Who doesn’t like salmon paste?” Rita’s head whipped around to look at Valencia so fast that he heard her neck crack. 

Juno saw things rapidly going downhill. “Look. The two of you can trade snack tips later. For now, I don’t have any time to waste. If you tell us what you know, you’ll get a pardon for whatever you’ve done involving this case, and your medical care and expenses will be taken care of here at the palace until you're fit to work again. You end up no better off, no worse than you started. And things could be a lot worse for you than how things started. Capiche?”

Valencia had her eyebrows raised. “That’s your _ opening  _ offer?”

“That’s my ‘ _ I don’t want to hear a conversation about snacks for three hours’ _ offer.”

“Mistah Steel, I think you might be downplayin’ how much I can talk about snacks. Now if we were just talking about salmon paste, then  _ maybeeee _ -”

“Yup. Great. Valencia, is that good with you? Cause I probably can’t do better right now, and I really need to know what you know about Engstrom.”

“You know you’re a terrible negotiator, right?”

“Yes or no.”

She sat back against the pillows, studying him. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Were you at the party when the bomb went off?”

“Nah. Personal security isn’t allowed to attend. Big events like that have their own guards.”

“Did he tell you anything about it afterwards?”

“You act like I was his confidant, not his employee. It’s not like you dump all of your problems on your secretary.” 

Something like guilt must have shown on his face because she turned to Rita. “My sympathies. Seems like a tough job. He looks like he has a lot of issues.”

“Maybe, but the real problem is trying to get him to open up about them in the first place.” Rita shrugged, pulled out her notebook, and started doodling. Or at least, he hoped she was doodling. He wasn’t sure he wanted a record of this conversation. “Normally he just goes throwin’ himself at problems and I hear back from him a few days later when he’s gotten in over his head and won’t talk about how it happened.”

“You don’t say,” Valencia said, watching as Juno actively fought the urge to smother himself with his coat.

“Yup! And that’s not even counting all of the times when-”

“Okay!” Juno interjected. “Getting back on track: do you know if Engstrom had any dirt on Pilot?”

She hesitated. “Before I tell you, I need you to promise me something. If you’re right, and Pilot really did kill Engstrom, then they can’t know I’m still alive, or that I ever talked to you.”

“You want me to fake your death?”

She nodded. “Just for now. I’m stuck in this room until I heal, right? It’s not like anyone outside of it is going to be able to find me. And if you do your job and catch who’s really behind this thing within the time it takes for me to get back on my feet, then I can leave and go back to using my identity on the same day.”

“Still, faking your death is a pretty drastic step.”

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna be too torn up if I’m gone. The only people I hang around are too used to death to bat an eyelash when someone like me ends up in the gutter.”

“Fine. I’ll have Vespa tell everyone that you died.” He glanced over at Rita’s notebook and saw she was in the middle of a particularly complicated doodle that involved a cat on the back of a unicorn sliding down a slip-n-slide in the middle of an opera house. He decided not to ask her about it. “Now what did Engstrom know?”

Valencia sighed. “I don’t know everything that Engstrom does- did-, and I tried not to think too closely about what I did know. It’s none of my business. A man like that appreciates loyalty. And discretion. But... I get a picture of what’s going on anyways. With Pilot, everyone knew they were only after one thing. The Freedome. A lost city filled with magic beyond your wildest dreams. You didn’t have to be Engstrom to know that Pereyra wanted to rule it.”

“So?”

“So they found it. Or, they found a map that leads to it, at least. They’ve been cagey about it for months, but not cagey enough to keep Engstrom from finding out. Engstrom threatened to make the coordinates public, and apparently Pereyra didn’t like that very much.”

“They warned Engstrom to stay away from the throne. Do you think they meant the actual throne, or the king?” 

“How should I know? Like I said, I don’t know much except for what I overheard. Although…”

“What?”

“I mean, you know why Pilot wants to rule the Freedome, right?”

“No? I heard about it for the first time like a day ago.”

She sighed. “You know, I’m starting to feel less and less sure about your protection.”

“Just tell me.”

“Pilot thinks that if they control the power of the Freedome, then they’ll be powerful enough to take over Hyperion.”

“What.”

“Stupid, isn’t it? There’s no proof that the place even exists. But for some reason, that’s the number that Pilot’s betting all their chips on.”

“But you said that Pilot found it.”

“They found the coordinates to a place where it might be. With any luck, they’ll be off looking for it by the end of the week.”

“They’re leaving in a week? But that doesn’t make any sense. If they were behind the attacks, then why would they leave when the king is still alive?”

“Like I keep telling you, I don’t know. It’s not my job to ask questions. That’s all I know.”

“Are you sure you don’t know anything else about Pilot?”

“I don’t know. I think they were having these meetings with someone about it on the down low-”

“An affair?”

“God, I hope not. If it was, Pilot definitely had some interesting tastes. The woman they were meeting- I don’t know too much; Engstrom kept things vague when talking about her, but she was ugly: more scars than skin. I don’t even think she had ears. I never met her, but Engstrom had scrying mirrors with recordings of them meeting in back alleys. The recordings and the coordinates. I think that’s all Engstrom had on Pilot. If there was more, I never saw it.”

“Do you know where we could find any of that evidence?”

“The recordings would have been destroyed in the blast, but I know the coordinates.”

Juno glanced over at Rita’s notes again. She had flipped over a new page and was now drawing Valencia holding her in her arms. “You’re still taking notes, right?” 

“Of course,” she said, flipping to the next page of her notebook and hastily starting a new, non-Valencia drawing. “I’m a professional, ain’t I?”

He looked back at Valencia. “You were saying about those coordinates?” 

She gave them the coordinates, and after a few more questions to make sure she really didn’t know anything else about Pilot Pereyra, Juno left her to talk snacks with Rita. The others were planning a meeting to assess the next course of action, and they were going to want to hear about this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So maybe I'm updating a week late. sue me. I had to move into college.
> 
> God, has my life been busy lately. I've spent so long in corona time that i forgot what it was like to have to write essays and have deadlines and junk. Well, deadlines that weren't self imposed. Still, college is good so far! The time has flown by at lightspeed. I've got both of my penumbra podcast posters on my dorm wall to watch me at night and hold me to my future deadlines though, so god willing I will be able to keep releasing chapters on the two week schedule maybe. maybe. nothing is certain and time is relative. 
> 
> also i might also have the ghost of jd salinger to haunt me and make me write because i am staying in his old dorm room. There's a plaque in here and everything. A quick google search tells me that he was only here for a semester in 1938 before he dropped out tho, so his ghost probably isn't TOO interested in this place. 
> 
> ON ANOTHER NOTE, (a note that makes me so happy i feel like crying) the google doc i keep this fic in hit 100 pages and 50,000 words today and if you had told me a year ago that i would write that much in the course a year for one single project then i would never have believed you. I'm so proud of myself and i feel like writing this fic has really helped me to grow as a writer and really expand into areas of plotting and characterization that I had never before dreamed of delving into. Over the year, I feel like I've really and truly transformed into a serious writer and I'm so happy that I have this objective proof that I've achieved something. of course, i don't plan to finish this fic at 50,000 words, not by a long shot, so here's to looking into the future and sticking with this project for another 50,000 words. God, I'm so excited to see if i can do it. 
> 
> as always, comments and kudos and bookmarks are my lifeblood, 
> 
> and i don't care if you've already left comments, if you leave more comments, i will remember you and possibly name my children after you.


End file.
